Rek Saviik
by The Amethyst Phoenix
Summary: Asmara believed she was anything but what she was destined to be. Her life of solitude was interrupted when she was pulled into not just one of Skyrim's many problems but perhaps all of them. Was someone like her made to save Skyrim from it's many dangers and failures? Maybe it was time someone like her stepped up, maybe...just maybe, it was what the country needed all along.
1. Chapter 1

_I saw him again. The Flaming Dragon from my dreams. He has come to visit much more often lately. He roars and shouts with the flames emanating from his bones and the ones spewed from his mouth cause me to wake in a feverish sweat. He flies and hovers above me, taking destruction anywhere I try to run and hide. Everything burns around me, I suffocate on the ashes and he lands blocking me from any chance of escape. He fixates on me with his yellow piercing stare, eyes aflame like the rest of his body. It is then he shouts at me, the unfamiliar language rolling off his tongue in a thunderous clash sending me flying through the air. When I fall, I remain suspended in a black void swallowing me whole, sending me catapulting into the real world when I awake with a sense of panic._

 _I have seen this Dragon as a man. This man is like no other – Pale marble skin appears as smooth as stone and a strikingly straight jaw line, framed with silky white and silver hair flows down far past his shoulders. He stands taller than any Mer or Man in current existence and his lean muscled body is draped in black robes, his feet bare showing from where they pool on the floor around him. Though it is the eyes glowing yellow and aflame that always catches my attention. It is the Dragon within, escaping through the small bits the man allows._

 _When the man appeared I was no more than a small child. The Flaming Dragon flew above me for the first time and I curled away from him in fear. When he landed I screamed above the roar of the flames, trying to hear my own voice. Then there was silence and the Dragon was gone. The man appeared before me, crouched down at my side. He held his hand out for me to take, his long fingers wrapped around my tiny, stubby childish fingers and he pulled me to him. I was lifted in the air and was face to face with those glowing eyes. The fiery eyes flickered in the wind as we stared at each other. He reached his hand up and tucked a wavy lock of my hair behind my ear, moving his hand smoothly against my cheek before he brought me to him and kissed my forehead. He spoke in that unfamiliar language, his whole body rumbling with each syllable. I do not remember but only his final words, yet I do not know their meaning. He whispered them to me as if I was meant to keep them a secret. "Lokaalii Elskahii Saviik" Those words have remained a whisper, forever bouncing around in my subconscious._

 _I have not been graced by the man since my childhood dream. It is the Dragon and his destruction haunting my dreams as of late. His shouts grow louder, his flames hotter and the void expands. His eyes glow brighter with every encounter and I cannot fathom what the Dragon wants of me. I always try to run, but I only end up falling. I fall and I fall, yet always the dream returns and I still run…_

* * *

Asmara's eyes flew open, her body launching into an upright position. She gasped for air, her chest heaved with her deep breaths and sweat glistened on every inch of her skin. She was hot and needed to cool down quickly. She took in her surroundings, greeted by the lush greens of Farlkreath Hold and the smell of pine would have been nearly overwhelming if she had not lived in the southern parts of Skyrim all her life. She shoved her bedroll down her legs and brought her knees up, resting her elbows atop them. She unbraided her rich dark brown hair in the sweaty mess it was and attempted running her fingers through it only to give up after a moment of trying.

She stood, feeling exhausted despite the fact she slept through most of the night. She lifted her arms above her head, interlinking her fingers together and pushing away from her as she stretched. A satisfying crack came from her back and she shook herself loose. She collected her hide, knee length boots, slipping them on quickly and grabbed her quiver full of arrows, buckling it around her torso. Her wooden hunting bow sat perched against a nearby tree. She shifted the bow over her soldier and positioned it so it the string went directly between her breasts along with the quiver strap. She rolled up her bedroll neatly, stuffing it into the leather bag she crafted from a bear pelt.

When all her things were gathered, she slowly began trekking through the forest. She quietly moved over the fallen pine needles and pine cones, listening for a sign of water or food. Her ears twitched slightly when she heard the rush of a small stream to the south. She moved closer, the sound getting louder. Nearly ten minutes later she found a small stream, just big enough for what she intended. She placed her bow against a tree once again, the quiver sitting next to it. She removed the thick furs and leather trousers, soaking each in the stream momentarily while rubbing dried mountain flowers on them to take away any smells. She flung her clothes over a tree branch to dry while she did the same to her skin and hair, cleansing herself of the remnants of her dream.

Her clothes were still damp when she finished due to the soggy weather that seemed a consistent companion while in Falkreath Hold. Looking at the fog around her, she made a point to head back towards the Rift soon. She preferred the Rift to Falkreath. Asmara always favored the warm autumn toned trees, the scent of honeysuckles and the summery sun compared to the rainy days and green forestation that spread on forever. Her mother, Elsyeril, however preferred Falkreath. Nothing in Skyrim represented her home of Valenwood, but Falkreath was the closest. The green, tall trees held the best resemblance to Malabal Tor, but nothing could compare to the taller and thick trees of those in Elden Root. Asmara had never left Skyrim, but she could sometimes feel drawn to the southern border, bringing her closer to the warm climates that would be present in Valenwood. Her mother would tell stories of her time spent in Elden Root with its large graht-oaks and the wild, untamed creatures that inhabited the jungles. Asmara had always cherished the stories of monkeys and imga, her mother always moving her arms drastically explaining their movements.

She threw on the damp furs and trousers, stuffing the bottoms into her hide boots. She ran her fingers through her hair in which she never bothered to trim. Starting from the top of her head, she began braiding her hair, gathering more of her hair into each section as the braid progressed. She draped the braid over her right shoulder as she tied it with a small strip of leather. The thick braid reached past her breasts and had small bits sticking out, the unruly ends refusing to completely cooperate. She crouched down to shuffle through her bag taking stock of the items she had left. She found her small coin purse and was disappointed by the light weight of it. She was disappointed further when she opened it to see only three septims left. There was a single minor healing potion left but she had easy access to the ingredients for another. She found her two daggers she pulled off a dead bandit and strapped one to her thigh, the other around her calf, inside her boot. Other than her bedroll and the Amulet of Akatosh her mother gave her as a child, there was nothing left in her bag. She sighed to herself, stuffing the items back in her bag before she slung it over her shoulder. She had not been lucky in her hunt as of late and would need a heavy bounty to fill her coin purse. She would also need to find herself an Alchemy kit so she could make herself more potions. She had a close call with a frostbite spider a few days prior and did not anticipate needing to make more so soon.

She grabbed her bow and quiver from their place against a tree. She strapped the quiver around herself but kept her bow in hand, ready to start her hunt. She tilted her head towards the grey and clouded skies, closing her eyes when she inhaled slowly through her nose, picking up the scents of the woods around her. She could smell the fresh water from the stream and the slight hint of the mountain flowers on her clothes, skin, and hair. The scent of pine was heavy as well as the moldy smell of moss and morning dew. The wind picked up from the west and that is when she caught the scent of her prey. After she let out a steady breath she turned her head towards the smell. She steadily walked towards her target, her eyes still closed while her ears did all the seeing for her. They twitched with the changes in the wind, listening for any signs of the warm blooded animal she was tracking through the forest. She was soft in her footing, making only sounds she herself could hear as she crushed the pine needles and sticks beneath her.

She opened her eyes when she heard hooves thumping on the ground. She gently and quietly pulled an arrow from her quiver with her right hand and positioned it near her bow, ready to fire when needed. She crouched low to the ground as she moved, her bow held out in front of her. She heard the hooves move again and she silently picked up her pace. She continued on with her deep inhales, the animal's scent growing stronger.

She stopped in a small open area. Knelt down on one knee, she examined the pressed grass before her. A larger animal had rested in the clearing. The blades of grass felt slightly warm to her touch, much warmer than those covered in morning's dew. The animal had just awoken and could not be far, so she observed the rest of the clearing, following the tracks that would lead her to creature.

After nearly fifty or so yards, the tracks met a small patch of disturbed earth. Asmara picked up the remnants of the grass and soil and rubbed them together in her hand. The grass was pulled from its roots, the animal fed here. She continued her path in the tracks, her ears listening more carefully. She heard the hoof steps only meters from her to the left. She stopped and tilted her head towards the sound. Her eyes scanned the forest, but all she could see were trees that spanned the area. She heard the hooves on the ground again and still saw no sign of the animal, but it was close.

She grabbed a small pine cone at her feet and through it behind her and to the left. She heard the pine cone make contact with a tree then bounced to the earth below. She turned to observe her left again and saw the large elk step out from behind the trees. She smiled to herself as she shifted on her feet, still squatted close to the ground. Her left leg stood out in front of her with her right leg at a ninety-degree angle, her right heel directly underneath her and her left foot kept her steady. She lifted her bow and arrow while keeping her breathing calm. The elk was oblivious to her presence. She aimed her arrow at the elk's skull and pulled the bow string back to her cheek. Her fingers holding the arrow brushed against her face and she took a deep breath.

The wind picked up and the elk trotted away before she could get her shot. She lowered her arms, slightly frustrated. Her braid swayed in the wind and she slowly and quietly followed its direction. She came to a rock formation that gave her a beautiful perch to watch her prey. She scooted to the edge of the flat rock and readied her bow again. The elk made its appearance, bending its head to grab another patch of grass. She inhaled, ready to fire once more.

Just before her exhale, her ears twitched as the ground beneath her rumbled. It was not often Skyrim had earthquakes, but it was not unfamiliar. Her elk moved once again, startled by the grounds shakes. She only had to move slightly on her perch to see the animal stilled once again. She wasted no time readying her bow this time, hoping the third time was truly the charm. She fired her arrow on the exhale, the same moment more rumbling and a large crash resonated through the mountains to the southeast. The elk took off running and her arrow embedded itself in the tree the elk had been placed in front of.

Asmara let out a sound of frustration through gritted teeth and jumped down from her perch to retrieve her arrow. She reached the tree and looked above her, the arrow sticking out from the trunk. She sighed as she reached up to grab it only to find it was only barely in her reach. She stretched and stood on the tips of her toes, trying to dislodge the arrow from the tree trunk. The arrow wouldn't budge so she placed a foot on the tree while trying to pull the arrow out. She lost her footing slightly and when she held the arrow for leverage, it snapped sending her flying back towards the ground, her back hitting the earth with a small thud. She grunted once again in frustration before throwing the arrow's tail back at the tree.

Shouts began to echo to the south and her curiosity spiked. The earth shattering crash she heard earlier sounded perilous and she only hoped no one was injured. Asmara positioned her bow across her torso and started off on a light jog towards the sounds of the shouts. She passed Halldir's Cairn, making sure to keep her distance from the tomb that did nothing but give her chills. She headed up the path towards the border of Hammerfell. She never strayed this far to the border, especially on the roads but they were empty and it was still early morning.

As she grew close to the border's gates, the sounds of shouting grew louder and her pace slowed. When the wooden Imperial gates came into view along with the Imperial border patrol she snuck over to the bushes so her presence was not known. There were a little over half a dozen Imperial soldiers stationed at the gates. They were rushing around the area, and what form, she could not know. She listened carefully to their words but could not hear clearly enough. She attempted to move closer but remained hidden in the bushes.

A few moments later, an Imperial driving a horse cart appeared and a dirty man in rags was loaded onto the cart. The man pleaded the entire time, though it was only his tone of voice she could hear and not his words. A soldier handed the cart driver a parchment he stuffed into his vest and snapped his reigns to get the horses moving. Asmara took this as her cue to leave and began to sneak away.

She got a few yards before the cart was instructed to stop. She pivoted to find an Imperial headed in her direction with his weapon drawn. She quickly spun and continued crawling through the bushes to make her getaway, but she was not quiet enough in her movements.

"I knew I saw something!" She heard the Imperial shout as she heard his footsteps pick up speed. She chanced a glance behind her to see five guards chasing towards her. Her eyes bulged as she jumped up and sprinted off towards the forest. There was a reason she never ventured too close to the border and this was why. Her mother had warned her enough after the Civil War had started and she always listened. Why now, was it that she disobeyed once to find herself under the pursuit of a troupe of Imperials.

She weaved through the thick forestation. Her hunting bow hit the backs of her legs as she ran – an annoying tick in the back of her mind while her main focus was to lose the Imperials. Her shorts legs and light weight carried her quickly though the forest, but the taller and stronger Imperials were winning out. They were shouting for her to stop running, to come willingly so they would not have to use force. She planned on going nowhere with them and their words only carried her farther.

She knew these woods better than the Imperials who were transferred from Cyrodiil. She had a small advantage. She cut to the right, running down a steep hill filled with trees, boulders, and overgrown weeds. She jumped over a large boulder, rolling on the ground when she landed. The angled ground rolled her farther down the hill. Sticks and thorns scraped at her skin as she tumbled and her body ached from the impact of the larger rocks and sticks that stuck out from the ground beneath her. When she finally fell to a stop at the bottom of the hill she yelled out in pain from the harsh punch of the ground. She twisted onto her back to see two of the Imperials carefully maneuvering their way down the hill while the other three aimed their arrows from atop the hill at her.

She jumped to her feet again, slightly limping this time as she continued the chase. Asmara took advantage of their slow descent on the hill and threw herself at the first tree available to climb. She charged up the tree, her firm grip on each knot pushing her higher. When she held a good balance, leaning against the trunk of the tree she looked down in search of the maroon red of the Imperial's armor. They were close but oblivious to her position above them. She swung from an overhead branch to the other side of the tree in an attempt to remain hidden. The Imperials scoured the area looking for her all the while shouting out to her in hopes of her surrender. She would give them no such thing. She pulled the dagger from its holder on her thigh and held it tight, ready to attack if needed.

The three archers finally joined the other two pursuers and their search grew. She bit her lip in her nervousness, hoping to wait them out longer. They would give up the search eventually and she could slip away to the Rift where they would never find her. She drew in quick and heavy breaths through her nose, still trying to catch her breath from her run and the climb up the tree.

She waited longer than she anticipated, her legs nearly cramping from her position, crouched in the tree. The Imperials looked ready to give up and she heaved a sigh of relief, but it was short lived. One of the Imperials sheathed his weapon and a soft ice blue light formed in his hand. The light flared slightly as he cast his spell and a trail of light and fog travelled from his hand. The fog headed straight for the tree. As the fog spiraled up the tree, the Imperial's eyes landed on her. She cursed as she ran to the end of the branch she was perched on and threw her knife down at the archer that had spotted her, who was readying another arrow, aimed straight at her. She did not look to see if the dagger met its target as she leaped from the end of the branch and caught the limb hanging in front of her from a separate tree. She swung down to the ground, landing on her feet with a loud thud, her knees bending to soften the impact. Still knelt down on the ground she turned and saw the Imperials running towards her, while one of them sat in fetal position on the ground, clutching his right shoulder where her dagger pierced. She snatched the second dagger from her boot and threw it at the nearest Imperial as she raced to her feet and darted away.

This time they were much closer and quickly gaining on her. She could hear them but wouldn't dare chance looking behind her to see where they were. She kept running, her legs and lungs were burning but she couldn't think about that, she had to focus on her escape. Finally, once she thought she was safe, she hid behind a tree, standing straight against it. Her breaths were heavy and her chest heaved. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears from the exertion and wanted to topple over to rest. She swallowed as she heard the first Imperial's approach. He was going to fly right past her. She took her bow from its position across her torso and she held it in a tight grip in her left hand. She closed her eyes and listened closely, concentrating on the heavy footsteps approaching and the panting breaths. The moment he stepped near her she spun around the tree, her left arm whipping out with her bow, knocking into the Imperials throat and sending him to the ground on his back. His hands reached towards his throat as he gasped for air and she looked up to see the other Imperial's running towards her.

She nocked an arrow, aiming for the first Imperial's thigh when she let it fly. The arrow went straight through, the arrow head piercing through both sides of his thigh. He screamed and fell down to one knee, clutching his thigh around the protruding arrow. She pulled another arrow from her quiver, but a hand reached around her ankle. The Imperial she hit in the throat had a firm grip on her and yanked her leg out from underneath her. She fell to her back, coughing as all the air in her lungs was sucked out of her. She gasped for the air when the Imperial straddled her legs and reached to grab her arms. She struggled against him, trying to loosen her hands from his grip. She yanked her wrist free with no small amount of force and then elbowed him in the groin. He reached for his manhood groaning and she turned onto her stomach to crawl away. Her bow lay just out of reach and she crawled using her elbows to get to it. Right as her fingers touched the wood, a strong and sure grip was on her ankle again dragging her back. She cried out as she dug her nails into the soil to stop the Imperial from dragging her away from her only weapon left. She kicked at him with her free leg, snapping his nose. His hands shot up to his face and blood seeped out between his fingers. She crawled on her hands over to her bow then took off running again.

She only took a few steps before a sharp pain shot through her left leg. She fell to her knees, looking at the back of her calf to see an arrow sticking out. She looked behind her to see the archer readying another arrow. She drew an arrow quickly then twirled on her knees as the Imperial sent an arrow flying towards her. Her hair wisped around her as the arrow zipped past her. She quickly aimed and fired her own arrow, sending it slicing through the air and puncturing the soldier's arm that was reaching for another arrow. He screamed in pain and she didn't waste another minute before yanking out the arrow in her leg with a strangled cry. She took a moment to swallow the pain before stumbling to her feet.

She turned to sprint off again and came face to face with a large silver plated chest. Hands gripped her throat as she was slammed against a nearby tree trunk, her grip on her bow lost and it fell to the ground at her feet. She looked up at the imposing Imperial who wore commander's armor and felt more than a twinge of fear when she met the scowl on his face. She struggled against his grip, finding it hard to breath. He reared back, puller her with him in his vice like grip and slammed her against the tree again. The wind was once again knocked out of her and she saw white spots dance across her vision. She clawed and pulled at the hand gripping her neck. She couldn't breathe! Her vision started to disappear before he finally released her. She fell to the ground in a gasping heap. Her hands went to her throat, caressing the sore spots left from the Imperial's thick fingers. Her throat hurt and she could barely swallow.

She had no time to recover before she was hoisted up with her arms by two Imperial Soldier's and forced to face the silver plated Imperial once again whose scowl was firmly in place. He glared at her and she hoped she at least had a similar look in her eyes. "What were you doing at the border?" He asked her, his deep voice shaking her slightly. She shook her head before answering.

"Not a thing sir." She didn't recognize the hoarse and breathy voice as hers. The man had squeezed her so tight she wasn't sure how long it would take before she would talk normally again.

"Nothing?" He asked, not buying her answer. She just shook her head, avoiding eye contact. "You know there's a bandit camp not far from here… you sure you don't belong to them?"

"No sir, it's inhabited by Orc bandits." She shook her head as she corrected him. He eyed her and she continued to stare at the ground, refusing to meet his glare.

"Then explain your dress." He stated, picking at her furs.

"I am just a hunter, I use what I kill." She said truthfully.

"You don't look like any kind of hunter I've seen." He stated flatly. He looked between the two guards holding her up before fixating on her one last time. "Load her onto the cart with the thief and get her something else to wear. She won't be needing these where she's going." The soldier's began to pull her away and she began to struggle and panic.

"Where…!" She started to ask before he cut her off.

"You're going to Cyrodiil. The Borders are being monitored by the Empire due to the civil war; no one leaves without the Imperial Permission."

"I wasn't trying to leave!" She yelled to him. She continued struggling as they pulled her away. She would scream if it were not for her hoarse voice. Her legs and arms flailed about as they battled with her. "Please!" She said to the soldiers who held their grip on her arms. Panicking, she didn't know what to do. She continued struggling, but their grip would not relent. Finally, she did something she vowed she would never do seeing she was half Bosmer with their terrible reputation for cannibalism. She turned to one of the soldiers and sunk her teeth into his arm. He howled as he jerked his arm away and she was able to loosen her grip from the other soldier. He reached for her again and she backed up out of his reach. She stood and turned to see the commander looming over her. He grabbed her head and banged it against a nearby tree. She fell to the ground on her stomach. Her head throbbed in pain and it was all she could feel just before everything went black.

* * *

It was colder than Ulfric had expected it to be on their journey to the Pale Pass. As they continued their ascent up to the mountainous border, the snow began to fall. This was far better than the tundras and autumn forests of the Rift they had already traveled through. He loved the cold; of course he did he was a Nord after all. Any Nord who didn't like the cold was a milk drinker.

He gazed up at the cloudy night sky, wishing he could see the beautiful auroras the decorated Skyrim's skies at night. At least he would get to remember the feel of the snow on his skin one last time before his journey's end in Cyrodiil. Or at least that is where he assumed they were taking him and his men. March him right up to Mede's doorstep for him to be executed for all to see. They would make an example of him, of what happens when you rebel against the Empire and Aldmeri Dominion. He had somehow, always known this day would come, but he never prepared himself for it.

Ralof sat quietly across from him. He was a good soldier. Ralof was always one of the first to volunteer. The poor sap loved Ulfric, he looked up to him and along with the other Stormcloaks thought he was truly meant to be Skyrim's High King. Ulfric had thought the same for a long time. That was years ago. The war has dragged on and more and more Nords die every day fighting it. The war needed a turning point, one he couldn't give. The Empire needed to be run from Skyrim but after all this time and all the deaths he was no closer to eradicating them as he was when he left Markarth twenty-five years ago.

Then the rumors started. The Imperials were traveling towards the Rift to gain a port and with Maven Black-Briar's influence and loyalty to the Empire, he saw it fit to intercept them. They headed out for the Rift, ready to intercept the Imperials only to be ambushed at Darkwater Crossing. They were outnumbered five to one; even General Tulius himself was in attendance. They never would have made it out alive. He called for his men to surrender and they all did so willingly, knowing what their fate would be otherwise. The Imperials tied them up, gagged Ulfric and loaded them on the carts. He had been chewing on the cloth stuffed into his mouth for nearly two days now. He was dreading the rest of the ride to Cyrodiil and the Imperial's would never risk removing his gag.

During his time with the Greybeards, Ulfric only learned one shout but it is the most useful he believed. Unrelenting Force has aided him more times than he cares to admit. It would only make sense for the Imperial's to gag him. The Thalmor were smart enough to do so as well, but he pushed those thoughts away just as they began to surface.

Ulfric continued to gaze up at the falling snow and lost himself in a meditative trance, something else he began doing at High Hrothgar. His soldiers were quiet and he was sure they were tired. They hadn't slept the entire journey. He wasn't sure if it was due to the fact they didn't trust the Imperials or because there was no way to sleep on these damnable carts. Even when the Imperial's made camp the previous night, they did not unload their prisoners. They could not even give them a good night's sleep before they lugged them off to meet their death.

Ulfric chuckled to himself at the thought of his last conversation with Galmar, who is probably having heart failure at the moment. The man was nearly relentless in his request to assist Ulfric and the other Stormcloaks to the interception. Ulfric had insisted Galmar take a different approach with another band of Stormcloaks. He only hoped Galmar's company was not also ambushed, but he has heard nothing giving that away from the Imperials on their trip thus far.

Ulfric is taken from his thoughts when the cart stops abruptly. He turned to look towards the gates at the border. General Tulius dismounted his horse as he spoke with the commander at the gates. As Tulius approached, two prisoners in rags were dragged from the gates over to their cart. The first prisoner appeared to be a Nord. He had dark hair and skin but Ulfric could not tell if his skin was naturally dark or if it was because of the obscene amount of dirt that covered this man. He was loaded onto the cart, shivering and cold in his thin rags. The Nord protested the entire time before he was threatened to shut up or else. Ulfric didn't care to know what the "else" was but he can't imagine the Imperial's would care how they treat a Nord that appears so lowly.

The second prisoner's face was hidden by long, wavy, and dark mahogany locks. It was obviously a woman telling from the small frame and the obvious endowments. She was unconscious, unlike the dirty man and was thrown onto the floor of the cart. When she landed on her back, her hair was moved away from her face. She was a Bosmer, or appeared rather close to one anyways. Her ears had a point to them but were not as straight as elven ears. Her nose rounded at the tip but was still rather small and was only slightly tilted up. She had defined lips, but they looked soft and currently pale and dry. Her skin was tan, but also covered in dirt at the moment. She had scratches up and down her arms with a few small cuts on her face as well. Her throat had horrible black and blue bruises around it. There was a large blood stain on her ragged trousers on the back of her left calf and he wondered if it was an old stain or if she was injured.

Ralof wasted no time questioning the conscious prisoner. "What did they capture you for?" Ralof asked the dirty Nord.

"I stole a horse to cross the border to Hammerfell." Ralof started boisterously laughing at the Nord man and Ulfric couldn't help but chuckle at Ralof's reaction.

"And how did that go for you?" Ralof said still laughing as the horse thief scowled at him.

"They shot an arrow at the horse." The thief grumbled and Ralof shook his head still chuckling.

"The border hasn't been open for years. Only those with the permission of the Imperial's can pass through and you thought you could take a stolen horse and just run right through the gates into Hammerfell – which that gate specifically is heavily guarded seeing as Hammerfell is one of the few places in Tamriel that has defeated the Aldmeri Dominion and successfully receded from the Empire." Ralof started laughing again. "You must be really brave horse thief or rather very stupid." The thief continued to grumble to himself as Ralof still chuckled.

Ralof looked at the Bosmer female laying at the bottom of the cart, still unconscious. "What of her?" The thief shrugged his shoulders.

"She's been out since they carted us over here. I think they said she was trying to cross the border at the same gates, but I never saw her until they loaded her in with me." The thief still grumbled as he spoke but answered Ralof's question nonetheless. Ralof nodded in acknowledgment and then turned his attention to Ulfric.

"Why do you think we're still stopped?" Ralof asked, directing his question to Ulfric even though he was gagged. Ulfric just shrugged his shoulders and turned his head towards the gates where Tulius stood speaking with the commander, his thumb and fingers were focused on his temples and the small man looked even older than what he already was. Tulius took the parchment from the commander and then mounted his horse, turning away from the gates and walking back down the path into Skyrim.

"Where are we headed General?" Their cart driver asked.

"There was an avalanche this morning blocking the Pale Pass, looks like the prisoners won't be going to Cyrodiil after all." Tulius said dodging the question then continuing on down the path as the cart drivers began maneuvering the carts around.

The ride was rather rough on the way down the mountain and the Bosmer rolled around on the floor in her unconscious state. Ulfric observed her for a moment as her head rolled back and forth with the carts movements. They hit a rock and the cart jolted up. A whimper escaped her soft lips and he noticed the wound on her calf was bleeding again. A few moments later she began to shake despite the sweat she was covered in. Ulfric concluded her wound may be infected then felt hopeless for her. She will probably be dead before the infection even worsens.

They hit a bump in the road again and she groaned in pain this time. Ulfric looked to Ralof who was also looking at the Bosmer with a helpless expression on his face. Ralof met Ulfric's eyes and then glanced back down at the Bosmer. "Maybe we should sit her up next you." He said nodding at the empty space on the cart beside Ulfric. He nodded and reached for her with his bound hands. Ralof helped and they were able to get a good enough grip on her arms to hoist her up into a sitting position. Her head hung on her shoulders and moved back and forth with the cart. Her long unruly hair curtained her face from him and he raised his hands to move the hair behind her ear. Ulfric nodded and grunted towards the wound on her leg. Ralof looked at her calf and his eyes widened in recognition of what Ulfric wanted him to do. He reached down gently grasping her ankle and brought it up to rest on his knee. He pulled back the rags that could barely pass for clothes and they both winced at the exposed wound.

It did not look infected yet but it was swollen and bruised. Ulfric knew it was an arrow wound and he figured that's how they caught her. At least they had the decency to take the damn thing out. "Looks like the work of a steel arrow all right. You think she'll be okay?" Ralof asked and Ulfric gave him a deadpan stare. Ralof took a second before it hit him then nodded solemnly. She moaned again as Ralof positioned her ankle better. "Hey…" He tried speaking to her to bring her back to consciousness. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and Ulfric was shocked to see she had human eyes, well more human than any Bosmer he'd seen. They were an amazing shade of bright golden yellow and they were glazed over from her sleepy state. Though the color of her irises was inhuman the whites around them showed she must be of mixed race. He was drawn to them in those quick seconds they were open before she hung her head again going unconscious, her hair falling in front of her face once more. Ulfric moved her hair back again and sighed when she didn't awaken again. Ralof shrugged his shoulders but kept her leg up to help the bleeding.

Ulfric turned his attention back to the sky as he had done so before. The clouds were still covering the sky, but they were showing signs of the sun peeking behind them as morning approached. Ulfric took a deep breath before sighing to himself and praying to Talos that it will all end quickly.

* * *

 _The Dragon is with me again. He's roaring above me, shouting to the heavens. Fire and debris fall all around me and everything is burning. I run from the dragon again but he always finds me, burning away the shadows hiding me. I want to scream at him for tormenting me for so long, but I cannot find my voice._

 _I reach the part where I fall through the void, but it does not come. The burning just continues and the flames mark every area around me. The dragon circles above me but he is silent, only the roars of his flaming bones can be heard._

 _He lands in front of me, blocking me from running again. I want to scream but I know it will do no good, for my voice is lost in my dreams. He stands to his full height and the flames are so hot I can feel them burning me. He opens his mouth to shout to the heavens and I cover my ears. He turns back towards me, his yellow eyes flaming. I become angry with the dragon. Will he never leave me alone? He speaks that unfamiliar language again but this time I understand him. I do not remember the words for what happens next distracts me. I stand before him and take a deep breath to shout at him. As the words leave my mouth a force is thrown from me into the dragon and he stumbles back, causing the ground to shake beneath him. It is from the impact of my shout the Dragon turns to the man. I am in shock and awe at seeing the man that once graced my dreams as a child. He looks more striking than I remember._

 _He speaks to me again, but I am too mesmerized by his eyes. I am drawn towards him and it feels like I'm floating. I am in front of him, my head reaching his chin and he looks down at me… and smiles. He smiles! He's whispering now, still using that language I never understood until this moment. I stare at his yellow flaming eyes and he softly smiles once more. I smile back at him and he takes his hand, brushing the hair from my face to behind my ear as he speaks the only words I remember. "Tinvaak Lokaaiil ahrk Elskahii Saviik." He said to me in the softest of tones. "Tinvaak fah Keizaal…"_

* * *

Her sense of hearing was the first to come back to her. She could hear the birds in the trees, the wooden cart moving over the cobblestone road and the horses that pulled them. The wind swooshed through her hair and she could soon feel it on her skin, the chill causing her to tremble slightly. She could smell the pines of Falkreath, but the scents of the cold mountain air drifted with them.

She finally and slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times as her consciousness hit her in full swing. Her hands were bound with thick strips of leather. She was no longer wearing her comfy furs or hide boots. She did not feel the security of her bow and quiver strapped across her chest and even her hair was no longer braided as it blew in the soft winds. She coughed at the uncomfortable feeling in her throat, wincing at the action afterwards. The cough caught the attention of the blonde Nord sitting across from her. He was dressed in Windhelm colors, which means she could only assume he was a Stormcloak. The first thing she noticed about him, however, was her injured leg was outstretched with her ankle resting on his knee. The sharp, cramping pain she was slowly remembering from before was now a dull throb. She winced as she moved her leg, gently placing her foot alongside her other on the floor of the cart.

"Hey you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." He said nodding towards the dirty man in rags sitting next to him.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." The dirty Nord's voice sounded panicked. "You there," He said facing Asmara, "you and me – we shouldn't be here. It's the Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

Asmara ran through the events that led her there, trying to recall what happened before she was unconscious. When she remembered the scowling Imperial Commander slamming her against a tree she winced, reaching up to feel the back of her head where a large lump presided. She then remembered why her throat hurt so badly and reflexively reached up only to pull her hand away from the bruising pain on her neck and collar bone.

She came to the conclusion the thief was not completely correct in his assumption. He was a thief while she was just an observer in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Stormcloaks have nothing to do with her capture. She looked to the cart in front of them with four additional Stormcloak soldiers – and then including the one sitting across from her – she deducted they may have something to do with her current destination; which she had no idea as to where that actually is.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." Ralof said with a finality to his tone. She knew he was right, it did not matter how they all got to be on that cart… their journeys will all end the same.

The Imperial Soldier driving the cart yelled back to them for them to shut up, but that had no effect on the two Nords across from her. "What's wrong with him?" The dirty Nord nodded towards the man beside her. She had not yet noticed him. This man was different from the other passengers. He wore a fine bear cloak and his clothes told of nobility. His shoulder length dark blonde hair had a braid on the front side. But what caught her attention was the gag covering his mouth. He was the only passenger on both carts who was gagged which called to her heightened curiosity.

"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." Asmara's eyes widened in recognition to his name. She had never seen the Jarl herself. This was the man who started the rebellion against the Empire? He seemed like the typical Nord if it weren't for the fancy clothes.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you… Oh Gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." Ralof said solemnly. Asmara pondered his statement curious as to where she would arrive after death. She worshiped the nine, but only Nords went to Sovngarde. She was half Bosmer and her mother never spoke of her father. She knows he was not any sort of Mer, her eyes are that of a human's except for their unnatural hue. She would be happy in her death with Bosmer traditions. She hoped maybe one day she would become a part of nature as it intends it; she's spent her whole life living with and around nature instead of holed up in a hold city, never straying from the path.

"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening." The thief started to panic and it made Asmara feel just as uneasy. She swallowed the lump in her throat, wincing from the pain. She would get through this; at least she knows it will be over soon.

"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?" The Stormcloak spoke in a comforting tone.

"Why do you care?" The thief spat.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." The solder said, ignoring the contempt in the thief's voice.

"Rorikstead. I'm… I'm from Rorikstead." The thief said in a defeated voice.

There was an eerie silence in the cart for a few moments, each prisoner surely thinking on Ralof's words of home. All Asmara pictured was autumn trees and smells of honeysuckles in the Rift.

"General Tulius, sir. The headsman is waiting." The voice pulled the passengers from their thoughts. Asmara turned to look in front of the cart to see the gates of Helgen opening for them. She'd frequented the town often enough just passing through. She had even stayed at the inn once.

"Good. Let's get this over with!" General Tulius replied. Another name she had never seen a face to. He was a small Imperial man with gray balding hair. He had a Cyrodiil tan and was dressed in his Imperial General armor looked far more intimidating than that of the commander who had captured her at the border.

She looked to the thief who was praying to a selection of the nine. Asmara sent a quick prayer to Akatosh, remembering the amulet her mother gave her is now gone forever. But that was the least of her worries.

"Look at him. General Tulius the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." Ralof said as they were pulled through the gates, the wooden doors closing behind them. She ignored his statement about elves, but only because she too was nearly glaring at the Thalmor, but she had her own reasons.

They continued through the small town and into a clearing as Ralof went on about his experiences in Helgen. Asmara spotted a few familiar faces among the onlookers, and she turned her face away hoping no one saw the same familiarity in her face. Surely she looked terrible as well, covered in blood and bruises. Maybe they would not recognize her at all.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief asked, dragging Asmara away from her thoughts. She looked to the cart ahead of them, which was already parked with the Stormcloak soldiers unloading out the back.

"Why do you think? End of the line." Ralof replied and Asmara felt her anxiety rise. Ralof turned to her and threw her a smile she would have found quite charming in any other situation. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us." Asmara went to stand, but she stumbled when she put pressure on her left leg. Ralof helped as best he could to stable her with his tied hands. She limped off the cart and he continued to guide her as she hopped down from the carriage. The thief continued to protest as they were unloaded and Asmara wished he would stop so she could compose herself.

A female Imperial captain and soldier appeared before them, the soldier carrying a quill and parchment.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." The soldier called out. Ralof grumbled something about the Empire and "their lists" before speaking to Ulfric as he walked to her left towards – what she just now noticed – the chopping block.

"It's been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." Ralof said with his voice once again solemn.

"Ralof of Riverwood." The blonde friendly Nord walked to her left to follow Ulfric. She had a name to the face now, and she decided the named seem fitting.

"Lokir of Rorikstead." The thief stepped towards the Imperials begging for his life before he took off running. Asmara gasped at his brazened cowardice, yelling back to the Imperial's as he ran. Asmara then noted the archers standing next to the guard tower in front of them. He ran up towards the gates, hands still bound but he barely made it up the hill before the archers were instructed to take him down. He was shot in the back with three arrows and she was thankful at least he died quickly.

"Anyone else feel like running!?" The imperial captain shouted. The silence following was deafening. The Imperial soldier – who she now realized was a Nord – pointed to her while he beckoned her closer. She limped towards him slowly, wincing when she stopped.

"Who are you?" He asked while looking at his list. She hesitated, shifting her eyes between the foul looking captain and the soldier, who looked up at her, waiting for an answer. She cleared her throat before speaking, but it did not help make her sound any more confident.

"Asmara." Her hoarse voice sounded with a struggling tone. The soldier tilted his head, straining to hear her. She tried to speak her name louder a second time, but if anything it sounded worse.

"Asmara…" He prompted. She shook her head and cleared her throat again before replying.

"Just Asmara." The soldier nodded then scanned his list for a moment.

"Not many wood elves would choose to come alone to Skyrim." He spoke to her still scanning his list. Asmara meant to protest against his statement but then he leaned in towards his commander before speaking softly, just loud enough for Asmara to hear.

"Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list." Asmara nearly scoffed at the statement. Of course, she's not, she did nothing wrong. She was manhandled and knocked unconscious for Gods know how long. They never had a chance to squeeze a name from her.

"Forget the list. She goes to the block." The captain said harshly and Asmara nearly flinched at her words.

"By your order Captain." The Imperial soldier turned towards Asmara and she thought she saw a hint of sorrow in his eyes. "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Valenwood." He said to her. She honestly could care less where her body ended up at the moment. "Follow the Captain prisoner."

Asmara's shoulders dropped as she followed the captain to join the group of Stormcloak Soldiers who were all awaiting their death, staring down at the currently clean chopping block. The headsman stood ready with the largest bloody ax she'd ever seen. She gulped the lump down her throat, wincing the entire time.

General Tulius approached Ulfric who was standing in front and to the left of her. She could only see his profile once again and saw he had a braid on that side of his head as well.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne. You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace." The moment he finished his little speech a load and hauntingly familiar sound echoed through the mountains. Everyone quieted, looking to see where the sound came from.

"What was that?" The Imperial Soldier with the list asked.

Tulius brushed off his nerves and continued. "It's nothing. Carry on."

Asmara looked to the priestess she recognized as the priestess of Arkay in Helgen. Falkreath Hold seemed to have quite a few of those around. Before the priestess could finish her first sentence a red headed Stormcloak approached the block, sounding eager to meet his death. He stood in front of the block before the captain shoved him to his knees, and then used her foot to push his head down onto the block. Asmara stared at the ground in front of her, not bearing to watch the scene unfolding in front of her. Asmara heard his last words just before the sound of the axe thudding into the wood. She took a deep breath to hold back her disgust at the sounds of his decapitation. She wanted to gag when she turned to see the captain guided a headless body to the side of the block with her foot. The citizens of Helgen shouted various expletives but all the words passed by her as she stared at the headless body on the ground.

"Next the wood elf!" Asmara's eyes quickly shifted to the captain and she once again swallowed the lump in her throat.

Then they were once again interrupted by the haunting sound. The sound was now recognizably a roar and it was much closer this time. She looked to the skies and she nearly cried out when the realization dawned on her. It was the same sound she heard echoed in her dreams of late. The same sound she heard in her dream when everything burned around her. That was the roar of a dragon. Asmara's eyes bulged out in fear and she looked to her right to see Ralof observing her panic attack.

"There it is again. Did you hear that?" The soldier with the list asked once again. The captain ignored him as she ground out her command.

"I said, next prisoner." He sighed and dropped his head before looking to Asmara, the sorrow flickering in his eyes once again.

"To the block prisoner. Nice and Easy." She didn't want to willingly walk to her death, but she surely wouldn't run like the thief and if it truly was a dragon she heard, she would rather die quickly than burn to death. She slowly limped over to the block and winced every step of the way. She turned and looked down at the headless corpse, then to the head lying in the wooden box. She gagged again but forced it down as she was shoved to her knees. She gasped in pain as her leg screamed at her. The captain shoved her head down onto the block and she gritted her teeth as the still warm blood from the Stormcloak coated her cheek. Her breath was steady as she gazed up at the executioner. She decided she didn't want to see her own death coming so she stared ahead at his knees, concentrating on tower behind him. She felt a tear roll down her cheek and she said one last prayer to Akatosh.

She was so lost in her own execution, she almost didn't hear the strong roar above her and the wind from strong black wings fanning her face.

"What in Oblivion is that!?" She heard Tulius yell as the ground shook beneath her. The headsman tumbled forward, his ax forgotten. She gazed up at the tower in front of her and she was silent as she stared at the red eyes looking straight at her. The black dragon reared its head back and shouted. She heard the unfamiliar words again before the thunderous clap. The clouds turned to dark shades of gray as they swirled around the sky. Flaming debris began to fall from the sky in loud crashes around her. The dragon let out a second thunderous shout, knocking her away from the headsman's block.

Her vision blurred and the ringing in her ears was relentless. She only felt the thuds of debris hitting the ground around her as she tried to gain her composure. Her hands were still bound and her leg was in agony. She felt helpless until she felt a pair of strong hands and arms wrap around her. She was hauled to her feet and she looked up to see Ralof was halfway carrying her into a tower to take cover. He dragged her through the door and she fell to the floor, her vision and hearing slowly coming back. She heard Ralof's muted voice through the chaos and turned around to see him standing at the door, speaking with Ulfric, who now had his hands unbound and the gag removed from his mouth. Asmara's hearing cleared and she caught the end of Ralof's panicked statement.

"…Could the Legends be true?" He asked his voice becoming clear. She turned her head towards the Jarl as he answered with a deep and sure voice.

"Legends, don't burn down villages."

* * *

 **A/N: So first part of the rewrite. Please review and let me know what you think. This new version isn't really edited by anyone but myself and spellcheck so please feel free to mention errors and such. Also any beta readers who would like to volunteer message me, I know I've had some respond in the past but it's been too long for me to contact them back honestly.**

 **For those of you wanting to pick my brain the song that caused inspiration for Asmara's dream sequence was the "Twilight Overture" by Carter Burwell. It almost perfectly matches up with a decent reading speed too lol.**

 **Thanks again everyone! Review and Fave!**


	2. Chapter 2

Ralof pulled Asmara along the road to Riverwood. They barely escaped Helgen alive and they had to make it to his sister's to recover. They had acquired only a few minor healing potions within the keep but after the dragon attack, the slew of Imperial soldiers they had to fend off, and the den of frostbite spiders, they had already used the potions they collected. So now Asmara was leaning against Ralof as she limped down the road. Through everything, they never had a moment to heal her injured leg and it was surely infected by now. Asmara was also sure it may have injured her leg further when she fell through the inn's roof in Helgen in an attempt to escape the dragon. The pain was excruciating and she ground her teeth through the pain as they continued their journey.

Asmara felt as if the road to Riverwood would never reach its destination, but finally as the path curved with the river, the quaint town appeared in front of them looking as normal as ever. The sounds of the mill and forge could be heard now and she felt Ralof heave a breath of relief as the village gates came into view. They drew closer to the town and Asmara could hear even more - indistinct voices calmly speaking with another, children playing, and various animals roaming the village. Everyone seemed oblivious to the disaster that had occurred only a few miles away.

"Looks like nobody here knows what's happened yet." Ralof spoke up, coming to the same conclusion Asmara had made. They crossed under the town gate and guided them to their left where a small bridge led to the lumber mill. Gerdur's mill rested on a small bit of land that split the river until it passed the town. There were large stacks of trees and wood that littered the area as well as piles of smaller bits of wood for chopping. Asmara noted a Wood Elf across the bridge taking an axe to a chunk of wood.

Ralof quickly scanned what he could see of the town as they crossed the bridge. He hoped the Imperials had not reached the village yet seeing how a quick look at the two of them would make it obvious as to where they had been. Both he and Asmara were covered in blood and ash as well as a few burn marks scarcely placed on each of them, matching the charred Stormcloak cuirass' they wore. With Asmara's arm draped over Ralof's shoulders while he supported her and she limped along, it bore even more suspicion.

Once they crossed the bridge a confused Faendal gave them a curious look. Ralof shook his head at the Wood Elf who helped his sister at the mill. The Wood Elf stared for a few more moments before returning to his work, deciding to keep to his own business. They turned right towards the mill and found Ralof's sister hunched over her workbench, her brow furrowed in concentration as she looked over her plans.

"Gerdur!" Ralof called out to her. Gerdur turned her head towards them and her eyes widened as she took in the sight of them.

"Brother! Mara's mercy, what happened?" Gerdur left her workbench and hastily made her way to their side, checking them both for injuries and finding more than enough to count. "Is it safe for you to be here? Are you hurt?" Gerdur berated him with questions as she placed Asmara's right arm around her shoulders, mirroring her brother.

"Gerdur…" Ralof said in a coaxing tone, trying to calm his sister. "I'm fine, at least now I am." It was a small white lie until they could get somewhere safe to discuss more of what happened. His back was sore and burnt from the chainmail cuirass he wore but he refused to cry about it; it could be tended to later.

"Who is this? One of your comrades?" Gerdur continued with her questions, looking down at Asmara, who looked more tired than ever. Ralof sighed before answering her question.

"Not a comrade yet, but a friend." Asmara looked to Ralof at his statement and she saw the corner of his mouth come up in a lazy smile as he looked down at her. "I owe her my life in fact. So, help my repay that debt by getting her safe and fixed up. We need to hurry. There's no telling when the news from Helgen will reach the Imperials."

"Helgen? Has something happened?" Gerdur asked in confusion, but then took another look at the two next to her and brushed off her own question. "You're right. Follow me." Gerdur nodded at her brother before she turned towards the mill and yelled out to her husband who was busy running their sawmill.

"Hod! Come here a minute. I need your help with something." She turned back so they could continue on across the second bridge connected to the piece of land the mill sat on to the center of town.

"What is it, woman? Sven drunk on the job again?" She heard her husband yell back to her and she rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Hod. Just come here." Gerdur yelled back. They crossed the bridge and walked past the blacksmith before crossing the cobblestone south road that ran through the town. As they passed between the Riverwood Trader and the Sleeping Giant Inn, they found Frodnar – Gerdur and Hod's son – waiting for them next to the Traders with their dog. He jumped with excitement at the sight of his uncle Ralof, regardless of how he appeared.

"Uncle Ralof! Can I see your axe? How many Imperials have you killed? Do you really know Ulfric Stormcloak?" Frodnar chased after them, bombarding them with questions.

"Hush, Frodnar. This is no time for your games. Go and watch the south road. Come and find us in the house if you see any Imperial soldiers coming." Gerdur instructed her son when they passed the Traders and the house came into view. Frodnar began to protest before Gerdur shooed him away and the young boy took off running towards the town gates, their dog following closely behind.

They approached the house and on the outside it looked as simple as most homes in Skyrim. It had a straw roof and the house was constructed in an L-shape, built with stone and wood supports. A fence surrounded the front yard that held in the small bit of livestock they had and various patches of hay littered the ground for the animals.

They carried Asmara through the front door and over to the corner of the L-shaped room, where Frodnar's bed was. Gerdur grabbed a pillow to place under Asmara's leg to elevate it as she instructed Ralof on where to find their healing potions behind the bar in their part of the bedroom. Gerdur ripped open the fur leggings of the Stormcloak uniform and Asmara let out a hiss when the injury on her leg was exposed. The place where the arrow had pierced did indeed appear infected and was covered in black and blue bruises.

Ralof rounded the bar with a handful of potions as well as a bottle of mead. He handed Gerdur the potions, then walked across the house to the dining table that sat near the stone fireplace. He sat hunched forward, his elbows on his knees as the bottle hung from his hands. Gerdur walked over the wardrobe near the large bed that rested in the tail of the L-shaped house and found some clean cloth, then made her way over to the fireplace, grabbing a bowl from her prep table to fill with the hot water she kept in the kettle.

After all her supplies were gathered she dragged a chair over to the side of her son's bed, finding an ideal place to sit as she worked on Asmara's leg. She dipped her first cloth in the hot water and began dabbing it against the infected cut to clean off the dried blood and ash that had collected around the wound. Asmara let out a whimper and Gerdur tried to distract her from her ministrations. "Do you have a name Wood Elf?" She asked Asmara, who was gritting her teeth through the pain. Asmara met Gerdur's blue eyes for a moment before she responded.

"My name is Asmara." She said quietly before her eyes shifted to her leg again. Her voice was still hoarse from the events of the previous day and she strained to talk.

"What happened?" Gerdur asked and Asmara took a deep breath.

"Are you asking what happened in Helgen or what happened to my leg?" Asmara asked a clarifying question before giving an answer.

"They were two separate instances?" Gerdur asked with the concentration line on her brow firmly in place as she continued cleaning Asmara's wound.

"I arrived in Helgen with an injured leg. I left with a lot more injuries and I believe my leg has only grown worse."

"I made her jump through the inn roof to escape from the towers in Helgen." Ralof spoke up, and then took a swig of his mead. Gerdur threw a condescending glance his way. Ralof nodded, "In hindsight, sending someone flying twenty feet through a burning roof with an injured leg may not have been my brightest idea." Gerdur scoffed at his comment and he just took another swig of mead.

"I was fine. My landing was just off a bit. It helped me get to the keep and I am grateful for that." Asmara spoke softly to him.

Hod then entered the home, looking to each person before his eyes landed on his wife, cleaning Asmara's leg. The confusion on his face was not lost on Gerdur and she looked to Ralof. Her husband followed her gaze and looked to his brother-in-law. "Now, Ralof, what's going on?" He gestured to Asmara as he continued, "You two look pretty well done in." Ralof sighed and ran a hand down his face before tilting his head back, taking another gulp of his mead.

"I can't remember when I last slept…" Ralof shook his head as he stared at the floor. Hod made his way over to the bar to grab some mead. Ralof rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to recall the events of the past few days. "Where to start?"

"Well, we had heard Ulfric had been captured." Gerdur spoke up as she poured a healing potion over Asmara's wound. Her leg was already looking better after Gerdur had cleaned it and the potion would rid it of the infection. Asmara's leg would only show a scar in a matter of hours once the potion took full effect.

"Well the news was true. The Imperial's ambushed as outside Darkwater Crossing, like they knew exactly where we'd be. That was… two days ago, now." Ralof started with his testimony of what brought them there.

"So that's how you ended up as Imperial prisoners?" Asmara inquired. Ralof nodded before continuing.

"I was assigned to Ulfric's guard. We were on our way to Darkwater Crossing, in the south of Eastmarch. The Imperials were waiting for us. As pretty an ambush as I ever saw." Ralof downed the rest of his mead and Hod handed him another. Ralof pulled the cork out with his teeth and took another large gulp of the drink before he continued, shaking his head. "They outnumbered us five to one, least. Ulfric ordered us to stop fighting. Didn't want us all to die for nothing, I guess." He said solemnly as he recalled Ulfric shouting for them to lay down their weapons before the fighting even began.

"I thought they were taking us south to Cyrodiil. Parade us in front of the Emperor. When we reached the Pale Pass the gates were closed and they turned us around. That's when they loaded you onto the cart." He said gesturing towards Asmara. "After that we stopped in Helgen this morning, and I thought it was all over. Had us lined up to the headsman's block and ready to start chopping."

"The cowards!" Gerdur exclaimed as she wrapped Asmara's leg in clean linen.

"They wouldn't dare give Ulfric a fair trial. Treason, for fighting for your own people!" Ralof's voice raised and he drank some more of his mead, and then slammed the bottle on the table. "All of Skyrim would have seen the truth then."

"Why were you being executed?" Asmara asked. Gerdur had finished wrapping her leg and was making a fresh bowl of hot water before moving her supplies over to where her brother sat at the dining table. Ralof gave her a disbelieving look that she noticed was on Hod and Gerdur's face as well.

"Seriously, you don't know? That was Ulfric Stormcloak…" Ralof started before Asmara interrupted him.

"I know who he is, but I also don't pay as much attention to current events as I probably should." Asmara said softly.

"Right." Ralof said in understanding, "I forget most people don't know him all that well or even know what he looks like, except for those Imperial wanted posters."

"It was because he killed the High King wasn't it?" Asmara asked, recalling General Tulius's statement at the headsman's block. Ralof nodded.

"That was when the war expanded into full force. He challenged High King Torygg to a dual in the old Nord way."

"A fight to the death? Torygg had to have known he wouldn't win against Ulfric."

"He did, but if he declined then everyone would have seen him not only as a coward but as someone who couldn't protect his throne. If he could not protect his title, how could he protect the country?" Ralof stated as if it was all common knowledge. Asmara kept her thoughts to herself, unsure of what to think about Ulfric's decision.

Gerdur inquired about Ralof's wounds and he removed his cuirass to reveal the burns on his back. The chainmail left burn marks on his skin and the pattern left raised spots of his skin where it had not been completely burnt. Gerdur looked peculiarly at Ralof's burned back as she began to treat the burns.

"What happened in Helgen? How did you escape?" Gerdur asked, observing the other burn marks that covered the two of them as well as the soot ridden clothes.

"They had already begun the executions but then… out of nowhere… a dragon attacked." Gerdur stopped her motions and Hod looked at him as if he were crazy.

"You don't mean a real, live…" Gerdur started, the disbelief leaking out in her voice.

"I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there." Ralof said, shaking his head. Gerdur continued tending to his back and he hissed as the cool liquid of a healing potion was poured over his burnt flesh. Hod handed him his mead so it would help dull the pain. "As strange as it sounds, we'd be dead if not for that dragon. In the confusion, we managed to slip away… with the exception of dealing with a few Imperials and frostbite spiders along the way." Ralof felt the burning sensation on his back subside as the potion kicked into action. It wouldn't take long for his skin to heal completely.

Gerdur began cleaning up the soiled rags she used and dumped the hot water into the hearth. She left out a few minor healing potions for their smaller wounds if they wished to heal them as well. "Are we really the first to make it to Riverwood?" Ralof asked, opening his third bottle of mead.

"Nobody else has come up the south road today, as far as I know. I'm sure Frodnar would have said something if he had seen anything." Ralof nodded in acknowledgment.

"Good. Maybe we can lay up for a while." Ralof turned to Hod, rubbing the back of his neck. "I hate to put your family in danger but…"

"Nonsense!" Gerdur interrupted as she threw a stern look his way. "You and your friend are welcome to stay here as long as you need to." She patted Ralof on the shoulder and gave a motherly smile to Asmara who still sat on her son's bed across the room. "Let me worry about the Imperials." She said to Ralof, giving him a quick wink and a peck on the cheek. "I ought to get back to work before I'm missed, but… did anyone else escape? Did Ulfric..." Ralof gave her his lopsided smile before he responded.

"Don't worry. I'm sure he made it out. It'll take more than a dragon to stop Ulfric Stormcloak." Gerdur just smiled at him as she turned to leave.

"I'll stay here and help them if they need anything." Hod said, uncorking another mead. She smirked and gave him a knowing look.

"Hmph. Help them drink up our mead, you mean." She chuckled before she gave her husband a kiss on the cheek and left the house.

"So you saw a dragon, did you? Tell me, what was it like? As big as a house?" He asked Asmara and Ralof with excitement in his voice. Asmara just looked to the floor as she brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them and Ralof remained silent as well. Hod looked between the two for a few moments gauging their reaction. Ralof looked to Asmara who still refused to make eye contact and he sighed.

"I'm not sure how ready we are to talk about it. It was more frightening than you can imagine." Ralof said quietly.

"Sure, sure. It's just, you know, not every day I meet someone who's laid eyes on a dragon." Hod said taking a sip of his mead. Ralof chuckled.

"No I suppose not. Maybe you'll see one for yourself soon. Helgen isn't that far from here. I even think I heard old Hilde going on about seeing a dragon when we first arrived to town." Hod's eyes widened and he shook his head.

"Don't even say such things. I hope that dragon stays away from Riverwood. We don't need that kind of trouble." Hod stated.

Ralof and Hod continued to make small talk while Asmara remained in her place on Frodnar's bed, with her right knee up and bent, her chin resting atop it as she still tried to process the events that had occurred leading up to that moment. Everything had been turned upside down in a matter of two days. She went from a simple huntress to a felon in a matter of hours. She was still trying to hold onto the fact she was free of the headsman's block. She was sure her death was upon her, even when the dragon attacked and stopped her execution, she wasn't sure if she would have made it out alive.

Asmara thought to her recurring dreams as of late. The Flaming Dragon had only once appeared to her when she was younger and she had not dreamt of him again. It was only a few weeks prior that the dreams surfaced. It was surreal to see a real live dragon in front of her. She thought it was a nightmare she would awake from, but nothing has happened to back up her suspicion.

This dragon was nothing like the one in her dreams. She remembered the sharp scales that were more black than night. His eyes burned in the same ways her Dragon's did, but they were blood red – not the warm gold she was used to. His shouts seemed more fierce as well. She remembered being knocked back from the force of the dragons voice and how it made her disoriented and even more terrified. Hell and debris had even rained from the sky, giving a more apocalyptic feel to the whole situation. Was it like Ralof had said in the keep? That the dragon was the harbinger of the end times? Was the world truly meant to end so soon?

Ralof's voice pulled her from her disturbing thoughts. She looked up from the floor and met friendly blue eyes. He tilted his head at her as if waiting for a response and she shook her head blinking a few times before he let out a small chuckle at her actions. He held up an unopened bottle of mead but she shook her head, smiling politely. He shrugged and uncorked the bottle before tilting it to his lips.

"You seemed lost friend." Ralof said to her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed in front of her.

"Perhaps I am." She said before she looked to him. She observed his Nordly features. He had the typical blonde hair and blue eyes and he was tall as well. He had a goatee the same color as his hair that framed full lips that she knew gave a warm smile to those who earned it. "Where did that dragon come from?" She asked him, not really expecting an answer.

"I'm not sure. Though, if anyone knows what the coming of the dragon means, it's Ulfric." He said to her.

"You seem to have a lot of faith in that man. You think Ulfric really knows where it came from?" She asked. He took another sip of his mead before he shrugged a shoulder, his fingers stroking his beard.

"Well… maybe. Dragons haven't been seen in Skyrim for an age or more. But wherever that dragon came from, and whatever it wants, Ulfric will get to the bottom of it. You can count on that." Asmara nodded, almost admiring his loyalty to the Jarl.

"We will see then." She said and returned her gaze back to the floor. They sat in silence for a moment before Ralof stood and headed over to the bar to grab more mead.

"You should get some rest. Let those potions finish working on your leg." He said to her, gesturing to her wrapped leg. She nodded to him and turned towards the wall as she lay down and curled into herself. She heard movement behind her and then suddenly felt the warmth of a fur blanket being placed over her. She turned to see Ralof looking down at her with his ever friendly smile lighting up his face. "Rest up. Gerdur will be back later and we can get some food in our bellies." He walked away and she turned back towards the wall. She closed her eyes and the images of the day flooded her mind. She didn't want to relive the events of what happened and luckily exhaustion won out, pushing her into a deep sleep.

* * *

 _The Flaming Dragon did not visit me this time, yet I was not alone. Everything still burned around me and the heat was unbearable. I could feel the burns on my skin in multiple places and the screams around me. There had never been screams before. It was always the roar of the flames and the rumbling of the Dragon's voice that filled my ears… never screams. The smell of burnt flesh and soot filled my nostrils and I gagged. This is not the same dream I had been having and it terrifies me._

 _The roar of the dragon echoes above the flames and I look to the dark sky. I search for my Flaming Dragon but there is nothing. I thought I caught a flicker of movement in the black sky and it was confirmed when the black as night dragon swooped down above me. I screamed in terror and ran as I always did._

 _The dragon landed in front of me, his scales were sharper than swords and smoke rose from his body. Blood red eyes pierced through me and I could have thought he chuckled at my trembling. I saw the flames building in his throat, his neck glowed a dark orange as he spoke to me. "Zu'u los Dinok" He stepped closer and the whole ground shook with his weight. I fell to the scorched earth beneath me and the tears fell as my eyes met his and the flames began to pour from his mouth with his final words. "Hi los funtaas…"_

* * *

Asmara startled awake in an unfamiliar bed. She took note of her surroundings and saw four sets of eyes meet her. She was breathing heavy and her skin was drenched in sweat. Gerdur stood from the table and as quickly by her side.

"Asmara, are you okay?" She asked, placing her palm over Asmara's forehead to check for fever. Asmara nodded and gently pushed Gerdur's hand away.

"I'm fine. It was just a nightmare. Thank you." She said as she pushed the fur blanket off her and ran her fingers through her hair. She noticed she was still in the burnt Stormcloak cuirass she had escaped in. Ralof had changed into some of Hod's clothes and appeared free of dirt and ash. Gerdur walked over to the fireplace and picked up a bowl that had some warm water and herbs in it.

"Here you go dear. Let's get you out of the men's sights and get you cleaned up. I have some stew in the kettle if you're hungry as well." Gerdur placed the bowl of water on the small round table across from the bar in the offset bedroom of the house. Asmara stood and was happy to see her leg no longer hurt to walk on. She walked over to the table and Gerdur motioned for her to strip as she walked over to the wardrobe next to her bed to get some clean clothes. Asmara began to peel off the Stormcloak cuirass as Gerdur spoke to her.

"I have mostly dresses in here but you don't seem much like the kind for dresses. I might have some old trousers in here..." She went on as she dug through the wardrobe's bottom drawers. She exclaimed in victory when she found a pair of leather leggings. She went to grab one of Hod's tunics as she continued on. "I knew I had something for you to wear here. The tunic might be a bit large but…" Gerdur stopped as she turned and saw Asmara's back. It was covered in bruises, all looking no more than a couple days old. There were also bruises on her biceps and other various places that contained smaller marks.

Asmara took note of Gerdur's silence and turned, covering her chest. Gerdur swallowed deeply when she saw more bruises around Asmara's throat and collarbone, which had previously been covered from the uniform's Eastmarch blue scarf. Asmara did not meet her eyes and only stared at the floor. Gerdur walked over to her and placed the clothes and a clean cloth on the table. She placed her hands gently on Asmara's arms and slowly rubbed them up and down.

"I am sorry for what they did to you." Asmara just shook her head, still refusing to make eye contact. "If you would like to talk to someone…" Gerdur started and Asmara's head lifted and she gave Gerdur a small smile. Gerdur dropped her hands from Asmara's arms and stepped back. "There are some herbs in the water that will help with any muscle aches and pains. Feel free to ask if you need anything." Gerdur turned the corner towards the main living space and left Asmara alone to cleanse herself.

After she was dressed and her clothes were adjusted to her size correctly she took the bowl of now dirty water and walked over to the fireplace before dumping the water in. The flames flickered from the water but the fire still roared in the hearth. Gerdur stood from her place at the dining table next to her husband and son and grabbed a bowl for some stew. She handed the bowl to Asmara who took it gratefully as she sat down next to Ralof at the table with the fireplace to her back.

The stew smelled divine and Asmara devoured it quicker than she expected. She gave a sympathetic look to Gerdur as she got her another bowl of stew but Gerdur just smiled warmly as she continued their dinner with her family.

"I cannot thank you enough for your family's hospitality. I have never received such kindness." Asmara spoke up. She noticed the stew had helped her voice and it was slowly returning back to normal.

"Of course. Any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine. You're welcome to stay as long as you like and if there's anything else you need, just let me know." Gerdur said to her and Asmara could see the friendly smile she shared with her brother.

"Thank you, but you have already done more than enough. I don't know how I will repay you."

"Well there is something you could do for me. For all of us here in Riverwood." Asmara looked to her and motioned for her to continue. "The Jarl needs to know if there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless. We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever troops he can. If you'll do this for me whenever you are ready to travel, I'll be in your debt." Asmara nodded. The task was more than simple enough and she needed to return to the Rift soon to escape the events of the past couple days.

"I would be more than happy. I will leave for Whiterun in the morning and give your message to the Jarl." Asmara replied.

"Tomorrow? That's so soon. Will you have recovered by then?" Gerdur asked, concern etched in her features.

"Yes, I believe so, thanks to your healing potions and aid I'm feeling just fine." Asmara said with a smile. "What can you tell me about the Jarl?" Asmara asked, curious as to who she would be dealing with tomorrow. She had never met a Jarl before and hoped this one was only concerned for his people and not just his own well-being.

"Jarl Balgruuf?" Gerdur confirmed and Ralof scoffed. Asmara didn't miss the action but her attention was on Gerdur. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, as he's ruled Whiterun Hold for years, but he seems in over his head now."

"How so?" Asmara asked, her head tilting to the side slightly.

"He's been trying to stay out of the war, but it can't last. He's going to have to pick a side." Gerdur said.

"You don't agree with neutrality?" Asmara probed but did not want to push the subject too far. She knew all too well how prideful Nords were and they're morals and values were of importance to them.

"Not in this case. It's time for Skyrim to rid itself of the Empire. The Empire may have been good for Skyrim once upon a time, but those days are long past. Banning the worship of Talos was the last straw. Thalmor everywhere, dragging people off for honoring our own gods!"

"Perhaps it is not the Empire we should be fighting then?" Asmara said calmly and all eyes were on her. She looked down at her stew and took a bite. She could vividly remember her first encounter with the Thalmor and believed more than anything that they needed to be eradicated. She knew they had power though and she feared no one would ever be able to face the Aldmeri Dominion.

"Ulfric's cause is still just. I'm glad Ralof is helping drive them out of here. If I was a bit younger, I might have joined the fight myself." Ralof and Hod chuckled at her last statement and she gave them an exasperated look.

"Woman, you were too busy running around with me when you were younger." Hod said as he wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders. She rolled her eyes but then smiled up at him as he planted a kiss on her forehead. Frodnar made a disgusted noise but Asmara smiled softly at the sight of the couple who was still in love after so many years.

"You should join the fight to free Skyrim." Ralof spoke up, working on his fourth bowl of stew. "You should come to Windhelm with me to see Ulfric. You've seen the true face of the Empire here today."

"You mean the beheading of innocent people?" Asmara said and Ralof chuckled.

"Yeah, something like that." He said, his lopsided grin pulling into place on his face.

* * *

Night had fallen and the house was filled with the soft snores and sounds of its sleeping residents. Asmara sat on the raised hearth of the fireplace with her knees bent up to her chest and her chin resting atop them. She stared into the flickering flames as they licked the stone around them. She had attempted sleep, but it had not come. She wanted to blame it on the uncomfortable floor her bedroll was on but she knew that was not the cause.

The scenes from Helgen raced through her mind. The charred bodies, the screams, the terror, the falling debris, the shadow of the dragon overhead and its shouts, the black scales, the red eyes, the tumbling tower around her, the burning…

Everything in the once quiet village burned. She had visited Helgen more than enough times to sell her wares and animal meat and she could only imagine what citizens were left alive afterwards. There were children there and a tear slid down her cheek at the thought of the young lives that had not been spared that day.

She soon realized she was not alone and heard Ralof approach from behind her. He took a seat on the hearth opposite her and their eyes met momentarily before she turned her attention back to the fire.

"Can't sleep either?" Ralof asked her, looking into the fireplace with her. Asmara just shook her head without answering but he still saw the motion. "I can't get the images out of my head. I've been to battle before, but… what we saw today was the worst thing I'd ever seen."

A few silent moments passed before Ralof looked to her again and tried to spark a conversation with his quiet companion. "How did you end up on that cart?" Asmara turned her head towards him and let out small laugh with her breath.

"I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Asmara said plainly, looking back to the fire.

"Is that why the beat you then?" Ralof asked and almost regretted the words. Asmara's golden eyes snapped to his blue ones and he saw the pain within them. "When they loaded you and the horse thief onto the cart he had said you were caught crossing the border. Ulfric and I saw the marks while you were in those rags." He explained to her and she still stared at him, so he continued awkwardly. "Then, in the keep when you changed into the cuirass I caught a glimpse of your back…"

"You watched me undress?" Asmara said with no hint of emotion in her voice, her eyes still locked on his. This time he looked away as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I wasn't watching, I just… I just saw the bruises." He tried to explain and her face softened as she threw him a small smile.

"It is okay, Ralof. This is the longest I have remained in the company of one person and I am glad it is you. It was nice to see a friendly face when I awoke on that cart. Yours was the first I saw." She said to him.

"Is that why you chose to go with me instead of Hadvar?" Ralof asked.

"Yes. That and the fact that he still continued to call me prisoner. You kept calling me 'Wood Elf' until I told you my name once we were in the keep. So, it was either I go with 'Prisoner' or 'Wood Elf'. One I have no choice in being but the other title I did not welcome so openly. The choice seemed obvious."

"Well, I'm glad you chose me." He said to her with his charming grin in place. She smiled back at him before turning her attention back to the fire.

"You know I think one of the oddest things of the whole experience was waking up with my leg resting on a strange man's knee." She told him as her lips quirked up at her comment. Her eyes shifted to him and her smile grew when he began to laugh softly.

"The previous night they had thrown you onto the bottom of the cart. Ulfric and I had lifted you up next to him and when we saw your leg and how bad it was, I thought it was the least I could do to help. I wasn't sure where we were headed at the time so helping a lady out as one of my last acts in the world couldn't have been a terrible option." Asmara chuckled.

"I'm sure Shor would have been fond of your chivalrous acts." Asmara said in a joking tone.

"This is the most I've heard you speak since we've met." He stated matter-of-factly. Asmara shrugged and began picking at a stray thread on her leggings.

"I guess the less I speak, the more people care of what I have to say when I do." Asmara stated plainly.

"Perhaps you're right, but you still didn't answer my first question entirely. What happened?" Asmara shifted slightly in her place and her eyes dropped again before she spoke.

"I was hunting in Falkreath Hold when an earthquake disturbed the elk I was tracking. The ground had rumbled a few times and there was this enormous crashing sound to the southeast, but I'm not sure where."

"When we stopped at the border, and you were loaded onto the cart, Tulius said something about an avalanche that was blocking off the Pale Pass. Maybe that was what you heard."

"Possibly, and it makes sense if I think about it." Asmara stated. She chewed her lip as she tried to recall her hunting trip that morning. She had noticed Ralof was still waiting for her to continue so she snapped out of her reverie. "After I lost the elk, I heard a commotion coming from the border to Hammerfell. I thought maybe something had happened because of the earthquake so I headed towards the gate out of curiosity."

"Then I guess what they say is true about curiosity killing the cat, eh?" He said with a grin in place. She let out a chuckle and shook her head.

"That would have been much funnier if only I were a Khajiit." She said with a smile before continuing. "When I arrived at the gates I noticed they were transporting the horse thief. I suppose he was what caused the shouting that drew my attention. That was when they found me hiding in the bushes. They assumed I was also trying to cross the border and also affiliated me with the bandit camp that resided in a keep nearby. I fought them off and ran for so long before they go to me with a bloody clairvoyance spell." Ralof shook his head at her mention of the spellsword. "I wasn't aware the Imperial Legion had many magic practitioners."

"At least you put up a fight before they took you. I would have done the same." Ralof said to her.

"Well my muscles are regretting it, but the herbs your sister gave me helped."

"I'm sorry they did that to you."

"So was your sister. Everyone seems to be sorry except for the ones who should be." Asmara said solemnly.

"Just another good reason for you to join the Stormcloaks. Ulfric would be glad to have you, I'm sure he even remembers you from the cart, plus I'd put in a good word for you." Ralof said enthusiastically but she could not meet his enthusiasm.

"Thank you, I might think on it, but I have avoided the war thus far I only hope I can do so for a bit longer." She said to him.

They remained silent before her eyelids began to feel a bit heavy. Ralof must have noticed her change in mood when he got up and held his hand out for her to take. "Come on. If you plan to leave for Whiterun in the morning you'll need some sleep." Asmara nodded and took his hand, stretching her legs out as he helped her to her feet. She walked over to her bedroll and tried to find a somewhat comfortable position before she forced her eyes closed and prayed to the gods that sleep would take her.


	3. Chapter 3

Gerdur prepared a traveling bag for Asmara before her small journey to Whiterun. She made sure to place some food, a minor healing potion and an extra set of clothes for her. Asmara was overly grateful for the hospitality she received while staying with Gerdur and Hod. She almost felt solemn for leaving such nice people behind, but she had a life she needed to return to as did they. Ralof planned on staying with his sister for a few days before returning to Windhelm to meet with Ulfric. With all the commotion from the day before, it was likely Imperials would be patrolling the areas surrounding Helgen, so surely Whiterun and Falkreath Holds were under being secured by the legion.

Asmara slung the satchel over her right shoulder and double checked the supplies inside. She headed for the door and Gerdur escorted her out of the home. Asmara was greeted by blue skies and fresh crisp air from the looming mountain behind them. The small town was already up and lively, just as it had been the day before. Hod had already left for the lumber mill that morning, and Asmara could hear the crashing and sawing of logs coming from across the river. She turned to Gerdur, who grasped both her hands in her own and smiled.

"Just cross the river and head north. You'll see Whiterun on its hill when you pass the falls. It's impossible to miss. You might want to pick up some extra supplies and a weapon or two at the Riverwood Traders before you head out." Gerdur said motioning towards the large building across from their home. Asmara nodded and withdrew her hands from Gerdurs. "Just be careful, wolves are often found along the road and Imperial's are bound to be patrolling the area. You don't seem all to conspicuous but be on your guard."

"I will. Thank you so much Gerdur, you've done more than I could have asked for."

"Of course dear. Any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine. Now hurry along, the Jarl needs to be alerted as soon as possible." Asmara nodded before she turned to head down the road towards the Traders. It was only a short distance and she turned onto the main road to see everyone alive in well in the village. Still no signs of dragons or death and it made Asmara feel a small sense of relief that things appeared normal.

Asmara walked through the door to the Riverwood Traders, but halted once she crossed the threshold to be greeted by some bickering between the owners. The first was an Imperial woman of about average height. Her nearly black hair was in two braids that were looped up into a bun at the back of her head. She looked no older than Asmara and her voice matched her age. The second appeared to have some relation to the woman. Asmara wasn't sure exactly what the relation was, but their similar looks were impossible to miss.

"Well one of us has to do something!" The woman said.

"I said no! No adventures, no theatrics, no thief-chasing!" The man yelled back from across the store counter.

"Well what are you going to do then, huh? Let's hear it!" The woman continued on with her side of the fight.

"We are done talking about this!" The man said firmly, ending the conversation. The door finally closed behind Asmara – who was still standing just inside the store – making a sound to bring the attention of the owners to her. "Oh, a customer. Sorry you had to hear that." Asmara stood there dumbstruck for a moment, before inching towards the counter.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt… I just need some supplies." Asmara said meekly.

"I don't know what you overheard, but the Riverwood Trader is still open. Feel free to shop." The man replied. Asmara nodded her head and took the few steps to stand directly in front of the counter.

"I just need a few minor healing potions and I am looking for a bow as well as some arrows. Any kind will do." Asmara said, taking out the small coin purse Gerdur had packed away in her satchel. The man motioned for the woman to fetch something from a chest behind her. She pulled out a simple hunting bow and a quiver filled with a few iron arrows. The merchant then walked to the stocked shelves along the wall behind the counter and grabbed a couple of bottles filled with red liquid Asmara assumed were just simple potions.

"Here we are. Just give me a moment while I write up an invoice for you." Asmara nodded at him in acknowledgement. After the woman, who Asmara was sure was his sister now, set the bow and quiver on the counter she huffed her way over to the table in front of the fireplace and began flipping through a book, all the while sending the occasional glare towards her brother. Asmara could feel the tension in the room, and her anxiety spiked from the awkward silence.

"Did something happen?" Asmara decided to ask, feeding her curiosity as well as breaking the silence. The merchant looked up from the small parchment of paper he was writing on and glanced at his sister before responding.

"Uh yeah, we had a bit of a… break-in. But we still have plenty to sell." He replied. Asmara took in the state of the store, and nothing seemed out of place. She never would have guessed the store was broken into. "Robbers were only after one thing." The merchant finished, handing Asmara the small parchment with the invoice of the products she bought. She looked at the total and started counting out the coin from her purse, having only few septims left.

"What was it they took?" She asked, sliding the coin across the counter.

"An ornament, solid gold. In the shape of a dragon's claw." The merchant replied, sliding her coin into her hands to place underneath the counter.

"Solid gold? That would seem like a hefty trinket." Asmara said, slipping her new quiver and bow over her shoulder to line up with her satchel.

"Uh yeah, I suppose so." He replied.

"Well, thank you for the supplies. I'll be on my way then." Asmara said heading for the door. The woman was still glaring at the merchant as she left and she heard them bickering again the moment she was out the door.

Asmara head north on the main road, passing through Riverwood's gates and over the bridge that crossed the river. The road forked at the end of the bridge and she followed the signs pointing her to Whiterun. She heaved a breath as she looked down the road, then back towards the small town she had stayed the previous night. After today, everything would return to normal and she wouldn't have to worry about dragons, Imperials, Stormcloaks or any other miscellaneous hindrances. She would visit the Jarl to tell him the news, what he did with it was none of her concern. The minute she left Whiterun, she would be on her way towards the Rift. She planned on taking Ralof's advice and decided to head through Eastmarch. She didn't travel on the north side of the Throat of the World, but figured the road signs would be more than helpful in her journey.

The road to Whiterun twisted and turned with the landscape, following the river that flowed north. Various wildlife crossed her path and she could hear the birds singing in the trees. At least nature had stayed consistent and it gave her a small feeling of normality. Nature was something she was attuned with and if that had always remained the same, then so would she.

Whiterun Hold, did have a lovely landscape. It was not like the brightly colored trees of the Rift, or the dark green forestation of Falkreath, but it had an openness to it that no other hold had. It made everything around her seem so clean, crisp and lively. There were trees, but they were scarcely placed and the leaves were a perfect shade of green that matched the grass below. The animals roamed more freely, almost as if they weren't worried about the hunt. She even passed a small pack of wolves who did not even take notice of her. Everything seemed at peace in Whiterun and she wondered what made the place so special that it seemed disconnected in a way from the rest of Skyrim.

The cobblestone path began to twist downhill as the river descended in a series of waterfalls. As the road twisted past the raised landscape, Whiterun came into a view and Asmara admitted she was impressed by the view. Falkreath and Riften were nothing like what she saw before her now. Though each city had its charm, nothing looked like the towering city that was Whiterun. The city itself was stacked on what appeared to be large rock formation in the center of wide open, flat plains. The Jarls home towered over the rest of the city, which in any other circumstance would seem intimidating. However, Dragonsreach was more of a beautiful piece of architecture and its design was flawless. Its height and placement made it stand out among the flat plains around the city – she compared it to a beacon of light as she was sure it could be seen for a few miles from every angle around the city.

The road detoured behind a slew of farms and other buildings along the road below. She could smell the meadery and her nose wrinkled from the stink of it. She hated meaderies. They smelled of yeast and the other odd products used in churning mead and the ingredients were always left to sit so the mead could develop a better taste. She was never fond of the drink, preferring spiced wine herself, but Nords were hefty drinkers and mead was the appropriate ale for them. This meadery however smelled much worse than the Black-Briar meadery in Riften. Wood Elves had better hearing than most and even their sense of smell was slightly better but not strong enough for her to depict what was misplaced about this meadery. After giving up trying to figure out what it was she smelled within the building she just covered her nose with her tunic and picked up her pace as she passed the smelly building.

After she successfully passed the meadery while keeping her breakfast down, she stopped when a familiar feeling passed through the ground beneath her. At first she thought she imagined it, but felt it again when the ground rumbled. She could even hear it that time and she cautiously moved onward. She approached a small farm that was ahead of her to the left and saw the culprit for the ground shaking beneath her. Another tremor traveled beneath her feet as she saw the Giant slam his club on the ground. That was when she noticed the trio of fighters, trying to take the thing down.

The main fighter appeared to be a large man she could only assume was a Nord with his height and build. He had black shoulder length hair and black war paint was smeared over his eyes. He wore a fancy type of armor she had never seen before, made up of what appeared to be a special kind of steel, but she wasn't an expert black smith so she was unsure. A smaller woman fought alongside him, she had short dark hair and tan skin. She had on some simple studded armor and while the man fought with a large two handed great sword, the woman fought with a much smaller blade and a shield.

When the giant turned away from her, she saw a couple of arrows protruding from its back. It was then she noticed the female archer standing a short distance away from the main battle taking place. She had auburn hair that just barely passed her shoulders and she had three green strikes of paint that went across her face diagonally. Her armor was more than revealing and Asmara wondered if it could be considered armor at all. The leather tunic was cut into a V that reached her belly button but was connected by a few clips that kept it from opening too far. The tunic reached mid-thigh and her legs were bare above her knee length fur boots. She wore green sleeves that covered her hands, but left the fingers open and the sleeves only reached a little past her elbows. She was, however, wearing shoulder pads and Asmara found it humorous that her she shielded her shoulders but not the rest of her body.

Asmara looked upon the scene as she passed but it appeared the three were handling the giant with ease. Asmara almost paid them no more attention until a shield went flying past her. She looked at the shield then to the smaller woman who was fighting the giant and her eyes widened at the sight of the poor girl shieldless and on the ground, her one handed sword raised above her in a defensive position. The woman went to stand and the giant prepared its club, raising it high above his head. Asmara saw the large Nord man run for her and push her out of the way before the club came barreling down. The man just barely missed impact of the club but was knocked off balance as the ground trembled. He fell on his back, his sword falling from his hands and out of reach. The giant took advantage of his position and raised his foot to stomp down on the helpless Nord. The man was rather quick for his size though, and rolled out of the way. The giant's foot connected with the ground, and it trembled. The Nord, now on his stomach, reached for his great sword but the giant was not going to let up on his attack. He raised his large club again and Asmara was unsure if the man would survive this hit.

Asmara thought quickly and pulled her bow over her shoulder, grabbing an arrow in the process. She wasn't used to the new bow in her hands but she didn't have time to get acclimated and tried her best to compensate as she nocked an arrow and sent it flying. She smiled to herself when the arrow made contact with her target, piercing through the hand holding the giants club before it came smashing down on the Nord. The giant dropped the club and clutched its injured hand, howling in pain. The Nord took advantage of giant's lapse in attack and grabbed his great sword up from the ground and swung upwards, cutting the giant's abdomen.

The giant fell to his knees and the small woman finished him off, stabbing her sword through its heart and it fell forward on the ground, causing the ground to shake one last time. Asmara approached the three warriors as they all sheathed their weapons. She walked over to wear the giant's pierced hand lay and tugged at the arrow gently, trying to keep her quiver stocked. She heard one of the warriors speaking to her as she yanked the arrow out.

"You handle yourself well. That was an incredible shot." Asmara looked up to find the red headed archer standing before her. "You could make for a decent Shield-Sister."

"I'm sorry… what?" Asmara said in confusion as she placed the arrow in the quiver on her back. The red head chuckled before she responded and the large Nord man joined her at her side.

"An outsider, eh?" She started.

"No, not an outsider… just a traveler." Asmara corrected.

"Never heard of the Companions?" She inquired. Asmara had heard of the Companions. It was nearly impossible to live in Skyrim and not know who they were. The founder of the Companions basically ruled Skyrim thousands of years prior, though she couldn't remember his name for the life of her. She didn't reply to the archer and she continued to explain herself. "An order of warriors. We are brothers and sisters in honor and we show up to solve problems if the coin is good enough." Asmara boiled it down to mercenary work, but she kept her opinion to herself. She just nodded in understanding and the Nord man spoke up.

"You should come to Jorrvaskr and be a Companion. You can speak to Kodlak and he'll decide." The man's voice was rather gruff but Asmara wasn't focused on that. No, she was more focused on the bright grey eyes she hadn't noticed on him before. The black war paint illuminated them further as well as his other dark features and she found his eyes to be quite the stunning feature.

"The old man's got a good sense for people. He can look in your eyes and tell all your worth." The archer spoke again, pulling Asmara's attention away from the grey eyes still staring at her. She gave a small, closed lipped smile at them both and slightly shook her head.

"Thank-you but I'm just going up to Dragonsreach to speak with the Jarl and then I'll just be on my way." She said simply.

"Well, let us walk you up there. Jorrvaskr is on the way and we can direct you through the city," The Nord man spoke, and Asmara nodded her head in thanks. Before her trip to Helgen, she had never found companionship easy, but these past two days it seemed people were more than willing to aid her.

She turned back towards the road and the two warriors followed her. She saw the third warrior across the road, gathering her shield before she joined them. Asmara looked back to the large giant still lying dead in the farmer's crops, and then spoke to the two warriors walking alongside her. "What of the giant?"

"The guards will clean him up; we were just hired to kill him." The archer replied and Asmara just nodded her head again.

"So where are you traveling from stranger?" The Nord asked her.

"Riverwood." Asmara replied, not elaborating any further.

"Nice little town that is." He commented and she just nodded her head once again, not saying anything more. "The name's Farkas." He said, holding his hand out for her to shake. She took it and his palm engulfed hers. The man was nearly twice her size. The top of her head reached didn't even reach his neck. He towered over her, and though she was rather small, she was sure he was still large even for a Nord.

"Asmara." She replied as they shook hands. He smiled at her, his grey eyes lighting up from the interaction.

"This is Aela," he said motioning towards the archer, who gave a salute at her introduction. "And that's Ria." Ria turned and gave her a large smile as well and Asmara wondered if there was something in the water here that made people seem so happy and friendly.

"And you're all Companions?" Asmara asked.

"Sure are. Ria hasn't been with us all that long though, but she's gotten a lot better since she's been here." Farkas said and Asmara thought she saw Ria blush a little.

"It's all thanks to your brother. He's an amazing trainer, I've learned so much." Ria said happily.

"Yeah, well I'm glad you think so. He can get a bit harsh with the whelps sometimes." Farkas replied, running a gloved hand through his hair.

"Oh I know." She turned towards Asmara as she continued. "One of my first training sessions, he knocked me on the ground and I fell so hard I thought I broke my tailbone. I couldn't sit down for almost a week." Asmara gave a small wince at the thought. Farkas gave a sympathetic smile that also seemed to mix with a wince of his own.

"Uh yeah… he did feel a bit bad about that one though." Farkas said.

"I know, he brought a sweetroll every day that week." Ria said with a chuckle and then Farkas began to laugh.

"Tilma made him make them himself too. You should have seen him, it was a sight to behold." Farkas said through his laughter.

"There's nothing quite like seeing your grumpy ole' brother covered in flour while still in his armor. He got it everywhere and then Tilma made him clean up that mess too." Aela piped in. They all laughed and Asmara felt a bit out of place, knowing nothing of the person they spoke of. "It took him an hour to clean himself off."

"Even longer to get his armor clean, but you know how he is about that." Farkas said, rolling his eyes.

The Companions continued their idle chatter and Asmara remained quiet unless she was addressed directly. They passed Whiterun's stables and made their way through the small fortified area before reaching the city gates. Asmara took note of the crumbled walls outside the city and though their walls looked strong, they still looked like they needed a bit of reinforcement. They crossed over a draw bridge and approached the wooden doors to the city and a guard dressed in a yellow cuirass approached them.

"Hail the Companions! Who is this stranger you bring with you? The city's closed with the dragons about. Official business only." The guard spoke to them, his hand on the hilt of his weapon.

"Calm down Gerard, I don't see any dragons around right now and she's here to speak with the Jarl." Aela spoke up for her. The guard looked Asmara over, eyeing her suspiciously. Asmara decided to speak up to help her case.

"Riverwood calls for the Jarls aid." She said simply. The guard relaxed a bit and nodded in understanding.

"Riverwood's in danger too? Well then, you'd better go on in. Aela I'm sure you can point her towards Dragonsreach?" He asked.

"Yes, though it's kind of hard to miss." Aela said with a bit of sarcasm in her tone.

The guards opened the gates for them and they all walked through. Asmara took in the city before her and was more than impressed. It was a clean city and the area matched the plains surrounding the walls of the city. Green trees and various wild flowers grew along the cobblestone roads and the buildings all look well kept. The first thing she noticed was the blacksmith's shop at the entrance of the city where an Imperial soldier and what appeared to be the smith in a slightly heated conversation. Asmara felt nervous passing the Imperial but he paid her no attention.

They passed a few buildings before coming to an open square with a well at its center and various shops and stalls surrounding the area. The place bustled with children running around and people shopping at the various stores. An inn sat at the end of the circle and she could hear music coming from the inside.

They cut through the town square and headed to the left where a set of stone stairs with running water on each side, led them to another area that encircled a large dead tree with a garden of wild flowers surrounding it. The water flowed all around the paths that circled around the tree and there were paths that headed in opposite directions from the circle. Benches were all placed along the outside of the tree and decorative garden fences surrounded the path. There was a statue of Talos as well as his shrine that sat northeast to the tree. A priest in the traditional yellow and orange robes stood shouting and preaching of Talos. Asmara was rather surprised to see such open worship of the God, seeing his worship was banned.

They walked to the right to go around the tree but the Companions took off on another set of stairs that headed up to a large building that appeared to have a ship's hull as the roof with shields and similar décor around the building. Aela turned back towards Asmara before following Farkas and Ria up the stairs. "Dragonsreach is just up there." She said pointing to the towering castle that overlooked the city. "Good luck on the rest of your journey." Asmara waved a goodbye and headed towards the multitude of stairs that led up to the Jarl's home. A moat surrounded the building and she crossed a wooden bridge after she finally reached the top of the stairs.

She pushed open the large, ornate wooden doors. She walked into the main hall of Dragonsreach and the doors closed behind her with a loud thud. She stared up in awe of the palace that was quite the sight to behold. Yellow rugs and banners decorated the floor and balconies. Large cylindrical wooden supports held up the arched roof and the balconies sat on each side of the hall. The yellow banners held the crest of Whiterun and guards in the familiar yellow cuirasses stood watch in various points around the hall. She climbed a small set of wooden stairs and was greeted by a large rectangular fire pit with two long tables on each side with matching yellow runners. The tables were littered with food and fancy silver dishes. The walls were made up of a similar stone that was used on the cities surrounding walls and above the Jarls throne was a large dragon skull. Where the skull had come from and whether it was authentic or not, Asmara was unsure.

She was too busy taking in the impressive hall that she hadn't noticed the Dunmer approach her with her sword drawn. "What is the meaning of his interruption?" She demanded and Asmara startled out of her daze and nearly tripped over a rug as she turned. "Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors."

"My apologies, but Riverwood sends for troops with news from Helgen, about the dragon attack." Asmara said meekly to the intimidating Dark Elf. The Dunmer stood straight as she sheathed her weapon, a look of understanding crossing her features.

"Well, that explains why the guards let you in." She eyes Asmara, trying to see if she was of any threat, but must not have seen one as she began to guide her towards the throne. "Come on then, the Jarl will want to speak to you personally." Asmara followed her up another set of steps and stopped in front of the Jarl who was conversing with a balding Imperial man. She stood patiently waiting and the Dunmer took her place near the Jarl's side. Jarl Balgruuf appeared to be about fifty or so with blonde hair and light blue eyes. He sat lazed back in his throne, one arm resting on the chair as it stroked his long blonde goatee. The Dunmer whispered something to him and he nodded when she finished and he turned his attention to Asmara.

"So, you were at Helgen? You saw this dragon with your own eyes?" He asked her. Asmara nodded as she replied.

"Yes. The dragon destroyed Helgen and last I saw it headed this way but that was yesterday afternoon." She replied, only stating the facts needed.

"By Ysmir, Irileth was right!" He sat straighter in his chair and turned a cocky grin to the Imperial standing next to him. "What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?" He asked the man.

"My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once. It is in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains…"

"The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation!" Proventus interrupted her. "He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him."

"Actually…" Asmara started with a low voice and they all looked to her expectantly. She met their eyes and continued after clearing her throat. "I'm sorry but Ulfric was actually there as well." She said.

"So the rumors were true then? Ulfric was captured?" Irileth asked her.

"I do not know what became of him but yes the Imperials had captured Ulfric with a handful of Stormcloaks. I'm sure the Jarl of Falkreath was more than aware of this as Ulfric was to be executed in Helgen." Asmara explained. "It may not be my place Jarl Balgruuf, but Riverwood is open and defenseless. They sent me here specifically so that you might send soldiers to their defense."

"You are right. I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!" He turned his frustration towards Proventus as he spoke. "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes my Jarl" The Dunmer replied and bowed slightly before heading for the entrance to the palace.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my duties." Proventus said with a small scorn of defeat in his tone.

"That would be best." The Jarl replied, obviously still upset with the man. The Jarl motioned a soldier over and whispered something in his ear before the soldier nodded and left to carry out whatever order it was the Jarl gave him. Jarl Balgruuf turned back towards Asmara who stood there fidgeting and staring up at the large dragon skull looming above them. "Well done. You sought me out, on your own initiative."

"Actually, Gerdur sent me. I don't live in Riverwood." Asmara corrected and his brows rose slightly at her comment.

"Regardless, you've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it." The guard returned with a piece of folded up armor and handed it to Asmara. She took it with her brows knitted together in confusion. "Take this as a small token of my esteem." Asmara looked down at the armor and noticed it was a studded Imperial piece. She began to shake her head and looked at the Jarl who was staring at her expectantly.

"Um, I'm grateful honestly, but I cannot accept this." She said, hoping she didn't sound standoffish.

"Are you a Stormcloak supporter?" He asked and she immediately started shaking her head.

"No, I do not support either side." She said hastily. He nodded at her, and it appeared he was contemplating something as he stroked his goatee. "Well then, how about this. There is something I need done for me and it may be suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps?" He stood from his chair and she handed the guard back the Imperial uniform.

"And what talents would those be?" She asked. She only just met the Jarl, he couldn't possibly know what talents she possessed.

"An adventurer's talents." He said smiling down at her. He motioned her to follow and she did with the confusion still on her face. "Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and… rumors of dragons." She followed him as they made their way to the side of the hall where a small room sat that appeared to be a study of sorts.

"Well, I assure you these are no rumors. It may be hard to believe but if you saw Helgen right now, it would not take much convincing."

They entered the room and Asmara saw that it was a typical wizard's study. And enchanting and alchemy station were settled against the far wall and a large desk took up the space in the center of the room. The court wizard was hunched over the enchantment table, wearing dark blue-grey robes.

"Farengar, I think I've found someone who can help you with your dragon project." Balgruuf spoke to the court wizard and he turned from what he was doing and a clasped his hands together. He took Asmara in and his brow furrowed.

"Hm, so the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me?" He said to her and she just looked to the Jarl for approval. He just nodded his head and the court wizard continued. "He must be referring to my research into the dragons."

"The dragon only appeared yesterday. Were you researching them prior?" Asmara inquired.

"Whiterun has quite the collection of books on dragons and legend. It wasn't hard to find the information I needed. Now, I just need someone to fetch something for me." He paused and then elaborated. "Well… when I say fetch, I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not actually be there." Asmara stared at him almost dumbstruck. She looked to the Jarl who was looking at her expectantly vigilantly. She shook her head slightly and replied.

"I'm sorry but, what does this have to do with dragons and what exactly am I 'fetching'?" She asked, putting emphasis on the last word.

"You're quite the thinker aren't you. You see, when the stories of dragons began to circulate, many dismissed them as mere fantasies, rumors. Impossibilities. One sure mark of a fool is to dismiss anything that falls outside his experience as being impossible."

"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." Asmara stated and he cocked his head at her reply.

"So, I began to search for information about dragons - where had they gone all those years ago? And where were they coming from?" He continued.

"I thought it was common knowledge they had all died off after the Dragon War."

"Then why have they returned? I, ah, learned of a certain stone tablet said to be housed in Bleak Falls Barrow – a 'Dragonstone', said to contain a map of dragon burial sites."

"And you want me to go to Bleak Falls Barrow to retrieve it." Asmara stated.

"Yes. Find this tablet - no doubt interred in the main chamber - and bring it to me. Simplicity itself."

"If it was so simple, why haven't you done it yourself?" Asmara asked, crossing her arms. "I only came here to warn the Jarl and get protection sent to Riverwood. And how do you even know the tablet is there? Ancient Nord ruins aren't exactly the safest place to wander." She protested.

"Well. Must preserve some professional secrets mustn't we? I have my sources… reliable sources." He replied vaguely only furthering her frustration.

"This is a priority now. Anything we can use to fight this dragon, or dragons. We need it, quickly. Before it's too late." The Jarl spoke up and Asmara found them both looking towards her with apprehensive looks.

"Of course, Jarl Balgruuf. She does seem to be an able assistant." Asmara went to protest again but the Jarl spoke.

"If you succeed at this, you'll be rewarded. Whiterun will be in your debt." He said, trying to convince her to go. Asmara sighed and looked to the court wizard.

"How do I get to the barrow?"


	4. Chapter 4

Asmara marched down the stairs towards the large circle surrounding the tree in Whiterun's Wind District. It was already mid-evening and she promised the Jarl and court wizard that she would head out for Bleak Falls Barrow first thing in the morning. She was not overly excited about the trip and would need a good night's rest before traveling through unknown territory.

She passed large tree and a little girl's voice caught her off guard. "Could you spare a coin?" Asmara quirked her head to the side at the innocent looking girl and she reached into her satchel to get her coin purse.

"Where are your parents?" Asmara asked.

"My mama, well… she died. My aunt and uncle took over our farm and threw me out. Said I wasn't good for anything. I wound up here, but... I… I don't know what to do. I miss her so much..." Asmara looked at her with sad eyes and then gave her a small smile. She motioned for her to follow and the little girl stood up, looking up at her with hopefulness.

"Come on. Let me get you something to eat. It's not much but at least you can sleep with a full belly tonight." Asmara said and the little girl smiled brightly at her. Asmara held out her hand, and the little girl placed her small hand in Asmara's. They began to walk towards the market and Asmara felt warmth from helping the poor child. She remembered all too well what it was like to lose your mother and the helpless feeling afterwards. She was much older than the little girl when her own mother died but the feeling was all the same. Luckily her mother left her with training and smarts on how to survive on her own, but this young on had nothing but a disdainful family.

"My name is Lucia, what's yours?" Lucia asked looking up at her.

"My name is Asmara. It's nice to meet you." She replied.

"That's a pretty name. I like it." Asmara smiled widely at her.

"I like yours too." They reached the bottom of the stairs by the market and she walked them over to a food vendor who was set up to her right. The merchant was a pretty Imperial woman and her daughter stood next to her at the stand. "What would you like to eat?" Asmara asked her and Lucia looked at the food on display. The merchant's daughter popped her head over the stall and smiled at Lucia.

"Hi Lucia! Who is this?" The daughter looked to Asmara with a wild smile.

"This is Asmara, she's going to buy me some food today! Divines bless her heart!" Lucia said excitedly. Lucia picked up a loaf of bread and Asmara handed the merchant three septims.

"Don't eat it all at once, so it will last longer." Asmara handed her a coin before continuing. "And here's a septim for tomorrow." Lucia beamed at her while chewing on a small piece of her bread. Asmara chuckled and thanked the merchant whose daughter was in a highly animated conversation with Lucia. Asmara waved her goodbye to the young girl and turned towards the inn at the other end of the market. She looked up at the sign that read "Bannered Mare". She chuckled at the name then walked up the steps and pushed through the doors to be greeted by the warmth of the inn.

A blonde bard played the lute on the other side of the fire pit that was the main focal point of the main room. A few townsfolk sat gathered around the fire or at various tables scattered around the inn, many of them had an ale in their hand. The innkeeper spoke out a greeting to her as the doors closed behind her. She walked over to the bar where the innkeeper was cleaning out a tankard with a clean cloth. "Do you have any rooms available?" Asmara asked, raising her voice slightly to speak over the sound of the bard playing behind her.

"Of course, it's ten septims for a night." Asmara reached into her satchel and pulled out her coin purse that felt much too light and she frowned at the sight of only four septims. She looked up to the innkeeper and gave a pitiful smile before placing her coin purse back. The innkeeper gave her a sympathetic smile as she noticed the anxiety seep into Asmara's features.

"Well, if it's work you need, how about chopping up some wood for the fires?" Asmara felt a bit of relief as the innkeeper pointed her towards the front door instructing her on where she would find the wood and axe she needed. She walked back out the front doors and looked to her right where some already chopped wood surrounded a stump with an axe stuck into the middle. She made her way over grabbing some of the full pieces of lumber and began chopping away, having to swing the axe completely over her head to make a clean cut. She continued for a few minutes, breaking a slight sweat before a familiar gruff voice interrupted her.

"How was your talk with the Jarl?" Asmara turned to see the behemoth of a man that was Farkas standing in front of her. He was no longer wearing his armor, now dressed casually in some slacks and a tunic. He still had his war paint plastered on his face, giving him an intimidating look but the large grin he wore made him look much friendlier. He was holding two wooden crates filled with bottles of what she assumed could only be mead. His arm muscles bulged from carrying their weight.

"It was… over productive." Asmara said, trying to best describe with one word being convinced into scouring an ancient Nord ruin, something she definitely had no interest in. He took a moment for the word to seep in and still seemed a bit confused but she could see how he brushed any thoughts of it away as he continued to converse with her.

"So, Hulda has you choppin' wood for her eh?" He asked, gesturing towards the woodcutters axe in her hands. She looked at the axe then at the pile of wood behind her as she replied.

"Uh, yeah. I didn't quite have enough septims for a room, so she offered to let me chop some wood for her to compensate." She said, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She gave a meek smile after the statement.

"You had enough to give to Lucia though." He said and he must have noticed her brows knit together so he explained himself. "On my way down here to get the mead, I saw you buying her some food." He said gesturing towards the market square where the merchant's daughter and Lucia were playing tag, giggling the whole time. "She's been here a while, and it's not often enough someone helps her." He said and she thought she saw a solemn look on his face as they watched the girls running around the square. "Some children just aren't as fortunate as others when it comes to having someone to watch after them." He turned his attention back to her and smiled. "Why don't you come up to Jorrvaskr and we'll hold you up for the night. You can keep your coin and not have to result to manual labor for a place to sleep."

Asmara began shaking her head, spilling out excuses. "I'm not so sure, I'd hate to impose. I'm sure only Companions are welcome to stay there."

"You know I'm sure Kodlak wouldn't mind if it's just for one night. It's the least I could offer for your help earlier. I woulda been hurt pretty badly if it wasn't for your quick thinking"." She smiled up at him but he could still see the protest in her eyes.

"I believe anyone would have done the same." She replied, readying another piece of wood to chop.

"Maybe. Maybe not, but it was one hell of a shot though, I'll give you that. I could walk you up there if you like?" He insisted as she swung her axe down on the piece of wood.

"I'm still not so sure." She started with a hesitant tone in her voice, breaking the rest of the wood apart and stacking it next to the tree stump. "The innkeeper was generous enough to let me do this for a room, I'd feel bad for not staying here." She bit her lip as she looked up at him.

"Ah, Hulda won't mind. I'll go let her know." Before she could protest he turned away and headed into the inn. She stood there for a moment, trying to process exactly what just happened.

"I guess I'll be sleeping at Jorrvaskr tonight." She mumbled to herself as she stuck the axe into the stump, similar to how she found it and began gathering up the wood, stacking them in neat piles against the wall of the inn. Farkas came back through the front doors of the inn and he jerked his head in a motion to signal her to join him. When she was at his side they began walking towards the together and she asked if he needed help carrying the stacked crates of mead.

"Nah, I can handle it, gotta be good for something." He grinned as he looked down at her and she smiled back, brushing her hair behind her ear. To avoid any awkward silence she tried her hand at starting a conversation when they reached the stairs leading to the Wind district.

"So, why did you join the Companions?" She inquired, thinking of a good question to get him talking so she didn't have to talk too much about herself.

"Vilkas and I have been here since we were little whelps. Our father, Jergen, raised us here."

"And Vilkas is your brother?" Asmara asked, remembering the conversation between Farkas and Ria earlier that day.

"Yeah, he's my twin. Even Vignar couldn't remember Companions younger than us."

"Vignar?"

"Oh, sorry. I forget you're new around here. He's the patron of the Gray-Mane clan here in Whiterun. He's the oldest Companion up at Jorrvaskr. His brother Eorlund runs the skyforge for us." Asmara nodded her head as he spoke.

"What is the skyforge? I can say the name sound familiar." Asmara said, wracking her brain to find meaning to the lost word.

"It's the forge used for our weapons and armor. Ysgramor found it when they came to Skyrim and build Jorrvaskr here because of it. That was before Whiterun was settled."

"I thought the armor looked special." Asmara said, more to herself than to Farkas. "You sure know your history." She stated, admiring his knowledge of the city and the history of the Companions.

"Eh not really. Vilkas does though. Skjor says I have the strength of Ysgramor while my brother had his brains. He reads… a lot." Farkas said his eyes getting slightly wider with his last words.

"There's nothing wrong with that." She said. She often found herself reading a book at night under the stars before she slept. 'Knowledge is Power' her mother used to tell her.

"So, I thought you were heading out after your meet with the Jarl." Farkas stated with a questioning tone.

"I had planned on it, but my plans changed. It seems as if everyone needs a favor of me today." Asmara said, a smile playing at her lips.

"What kind of favor?" He asked.

"His court wizard needs help with his dragon research and needs some sort of stone tablet. They're sending me to Bleak Falls Barrow in the morning." She replied.

"Bleak Falls Barrow?" He said, raising his eyebrows in small surprise. "Kinda dangerous for someone to be traveling through alone dontchya think?" He questioned, a bit of alarm in his voice.

"I honestly don't know much about the place, just that it's an ancient Nord ruin. I saw it on my way through Riverwood yesterday, so I think I know how to get there. I can handle myself decently enough I suppose. Well, enough to make it through alive I hope." He nodded, his brows slightly scrunched together in concern.

They reached the top of the stairs that led to Jorrvaskr and she helped Farkas through the main doors, holding the door so he could pass through with the crates of mead. She walked in behind him and the hall smelt of food, mead and burning wood from the large fire pit that took up the center of the room. The main part of the hall had a lowered stone floor with wooden stairs on each leading up to the wood floor landing that surrounded the hall. The roof of the mead hall was in fact a boat hull and she admired the original thought put into the architecture. Red banners hung from the supports and various weapons and animal mounts decorated the walls.

The moment they walked into the mead hall a commotion captured her attention to the left side of the tables surrounding the fire pit. There was an open space between the various small tables, benches and the few bookshelves that sat up against the wall. In the open space a male Dunmer wearing less hide armor than could be functional and a Nord woman also wearing hide armor were in the middle of a fist fight. Some members gathered around to watch the fight. Some made bets while others yelled pointers to the two. She looked at the scene, confusion plastered on her face and when she turned back to ask Farkas what was going on, he was already headed to the other side of the hall with the crates of mead. She slowly walked towards the fight, taking it all in. She wondered if anyone would stop them, but they all seemed to be enjoying the show, so she stood there awkwardly and let them finish their fight. Finally the woman knocked the Dunmer down and just as she pulled her arm for another punch he held his hand up, calling yield. As he stood slowly and defeated, the onlookers all went their separate ways, a few passing coin purses around. A male voice drew her attention and when she turned she saw a man who looked to be around fifty, possibly older, with a long grey pony tail despite his baldness and armor matched the armor she saw Farkas wearing earlier. She got a better look at his and noticed the wolves embellished onto the breastplate. Though, the most obvious feature was his left eye that was completely white with a scar running down from his brow to just above his jaw. It made his whole appearance look rather fearsome.

"Haven't seen your face before." He said to her. Before she could reply, another voice came to her defense.

"Skjor, this is Asmara; she's the one I was telling you about." Aela said to the man, giving him a stern look and Asmara felt a small bit of relief from not having to explain her presence, seeing as she didn't know where Farkas went to. The older man eyed her suspiciously with a raised eyebrow.

"Hm. She doesn't look like much." He said with crossed arms. Skjor was obviously a Nord, as he stood much taller than her but he didn't reach the height Farkas did. He looked down at her and she chewed her bottom lip as he continued to assess her.

"I would have thought you'd left Whiterun by now." Aela said to her, but there was nothing unfriendly in her tone.

"I thought so too." Asmara replied vaguely, and when Aela looked as if she was waiting for her to say more she continued. "I have to do something for his court wizard and Farkas invited me to stay the night. I didn't have enough septims for a room at the inn." She explained.

"Jorrvaskr isn't a bunk house." Skjor said plainly and Aela gave him another pointed look.

"Come on. Why don't I introduce you to the old man? I'm sure he'd like to meet you. Farkas wouldn't stop talking about you earlier." Aela placed a hand between Asmara's shoulder blades and guided her to the other side of the room, where a set of stairs descended into the basement.

The basement was constructed mainly of stone with curved arches over the main hall. Across from the stairs was a room with a multitude of beds she assumed were the living quarters. Aela took her to the right and down the hall where red and yellow runners covered the floor. They walked through an archway and there were two adjoining halls on each side. From what she could see the halls were rather short and only had two rooms across from each other in each hallway. They walked past the adjoining halls and Aela motioned for Asmara to take a seat at the small table that sat in the corner of the hall next to a set of double doors that were currently cracked open.

"Wait here. I'm going to go fetch Farkas." She instructed and Asmara nodded. She sat patiently as Aela turned and headed down one of the adjacent hallways. Asmara could pick up on a quiet conversation within the room and her ears perked up as they strained to hear it, but she remained seated.

"But I still hear the call of the blood." She heard a deep voice say. The voice had a familiarity too it, but she wasn't quite sure why.

"We all do. It is our burden to bear. But we can overcome." This voice was of an older man she could tell. Experience and wisdom seemed to seep into his voice and she found it… fatherly.

"You have my brother and I, obviously. But I don't know if the rest will go along quite so easily." The other voice replied.

"Leave that to me." The older man replied just as Aela rounded the corner with Farkas. She poked her head in through the cracked door and then motioned for Asmara to follow her. Asmara stood and gave a friendly smile to Farkas who returned the expression before gesturing for her to enter the room first. She walked through the double doors into a large study with a rug matching the runners taking up the space on the stone floor. Two men dressed in the same armor Skjor and Farkas had on, sat in the corner at a small round table. The first she noticed was the older man and she now had a face to the voice. He matched his voice with looks of wisdom and experience in his features. He had light blue eyes and a scar on his left cheek with a swirling war paint design on his right. His silver hair reached his shoulders and had a thick braid on the side. His long beard was a bit darker than his hair and reached low enough to cover his neck. The man was a pure Nord warrior.

The other man had not looked up at her. His elbows rested on his knees and he stared at the floor. Asmara couldn't see many of his features, just his black hair that wasn't cut short but was shorter than Farkas'. Though he was sitting down, Asmara could see he was tall and lean.

"Aela, you bring a stranger to our hall." The older man spoke and she assumed he was the Kodlak Farkas had mentioned before.

"This is the one Farkas spoke of earlier. Shot her arrow straight through the giant's hand." Aela explained. Kodlak looked her over and she bit the inside of her cheek as he assessed her.

"Hm. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit. Tell me, do you wish to join the Companions?" He asked her and Asmara stood there for a moment, trying to find her words.

"I'm not much of a warrior, just really good with a bow." Asmara explained. He nodded and Aela chuckled. The other man's head popped up at her statement and she nearly glared at her. She was taken aback at first by his looks and she did a double take when she looked at Farkas. She came to the conclusion this was the twin brother he told her about earlier. That was why she recognized the voice. It was similar to Farkas' but was a bit deeper and much smoother. They did look strikingly alike but they had their differences. Where Farkas was large and buff, Vilkas was lean but looked no less a warrior. Farkas' beard was a bit scruffier while Vilkas had more of a thick stubble. Though it was their eyes that seemed to differ the most. Both had bright steel grey eyes but Vilkas had an intensity in his that Farkas couldn't match. She could sense a seriousness in him and she wondered how they came to be so different.

"Master, you wouldn't truly consider accepting her?" Vilkas spoke out and Asmara snapped her head towards him. He didn't look at her, just kept his attention on Kodlak.

"I am nobody's master, Vilkas. And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts." Kodlak replied calmly.

"I invited her here Vilkas. I would have been flattened and broke if not for her. The least we could do is offer her a place to stay for the night." Farkas came to her defense and she gave him a small smile in thanks.

"What matters is their heart." Kodlak added.

"And her arm…" Vilkas muttered, crossing his arms. Kodlak nodded and turned back towards her.

"Just good with a bow?" He asked her and she looked to Aela who gave her nothing to go on. Asmara nodded and shrugged a shoulder.

"I mastered archery when I was eleven. I don't often need to use anything else but when I do, I have daggers and throwing knives. Like I said before, I'm no warrior."

"I found her chopping wood outside the inn because she didn't have enough for a room. She gave half her coin to Lucia beforehand and I thought she deserved a warm bed to sleep in tonight." Farkas said. Kodlak stared at her for a moment then Farkas continued to elaborate. "She told me the Jarl is sending her to Bleak Falls Barrow in the morning. She'll need her rest if she's going to traverse through any ancient ruins." Kodlak stood from his chair and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Welcome to Jorrvaskr. I am Kodlak, Harbinger of the Companions but you already know that." Asmara nodded and he gave a small chuckle. "We thank you for saving our Farkas here. He's a great warrior and it would have been a tragedy for something to happen to him. Come, let us go celebrate in the mead hall over dinner. We'll toast to your success today." Asmara's eyes widened in slight panic and she looked to Aela and Farkas for help as she started to protest.

"Oh, please. No celebrating on my behalf, it was what anyone would and should do. Giving me a bed tonight is more than enough." She said, speaking a little too quickly as she always did when her anxiety spiked.

"Nonsense! Every battle won is cause of celebration. Tilma has prepared a wondrous meal, you'll at least enjoy it with us." Kodlak said, smiling boisterously down at her. He ushered her through his study and they all made their way up the stairs and into the mead hall where most of the other Companions sat around the fire pit at the long tables. Farkas took her bow and quiver from her and placed it on a nearby weapons rack that sat against the wall near the steps to the basement. She took a seat where he had instructed her to and Farkas sat down next to her on the right and Aela to the left. Skjor sat next to Aela and Kodlak next to him. She turned to see Vilkas was sitting at the other end of the tables, glaring their way and she quickly looked away when their eyes met. He made her feel uneasy and she could feel her chest tighten when those steel grey orbs were on her.

Farkas caught the exchange and smirked. "Don't worry about Vilkas. He just takes some getting used to."

"Be careful you don't want him to hear that." Skjor spoke up from Aela's side as he stabbed a piece of meat with his fork and popped it in his mouth.

"He won't do anything to Farkas, he's his weak spot. Farkas can say whatever he wants about him." Aela said.

"That's because anything I say, he knows is true." Farkas said with a chuckle, taking a swig of mead from his tankard.

"Is he always so…" Asmara began but had difficulty finding a word so the three tried to finish her sentence for her.

"Angry?"

"Harsh?"

"Annoying?" She let out a small giggle at the three responses she received then replied.

"Um, brooding?" She corrected.

Farkas replied rubbing the back of his neck, "Yeah he's always been like that but just ignore him, he'll come around." Farkas then handed her a plate of food and her mouth watered at the smell and sight of the various meats, cheeses and vegetables in front of her. She grabbed her fork and tore into the grilled chicken breast. Her eyes rolled back in her head slightly and she let out a small moan of approval as she chewed the piece of meat. It wasn't often she got to eat a real meal and she savored every bit of it. When she looked up she saw Farkas staring at her, his mouth hanging open slightly and she swallowed her food as her eyebrows knitted together at his expression. "What?" she asked. She grabbed a cloth napkin and dabbed her face. "Did I make a mess of myself?" and he just shook his head and turned back towards his food. She blushed at the interaction and continued with her food.

A moment later he handed her a bottle of mead with a grin on his face and she eyes the bottle suspiciously. She had never drunk much before, seeing as it wasn't entirely available to her, but she gratefully accepted it from him. She bit the cork and pulled and it made a popping sound when the bottle opened and Farkas just simply yanked his cork out with his bare hands. He held is bottle out to her and she clinked hers with his before bringing it to her lips. It was quite refreshing, more so than she expected and it did taste quite delicious. It did have somewhat of an after taste but she figured it grew on you the more you drank.

"So do you think you'll visit us again after your trip tomorrow?" Farkas asked her and she shrugged her shoulders.

"If I find what the court mage is looking for, I will have to at least come back to give it to him. You might see me then." She said, giving him a bit of hope. She would have to return at least once, but after her retrieval of the Dragonstone, she'd be on her way back to the Rift. It was just where she belonged.

"Well you're always welcome. You definitely know how to handle yourself; you'd make a great Shield-Sister." Her cheeks warmed at his compliment and she thanked him. She brushed her hair behind her ear, a nervous tick she picked up when she was younger.

She turned her attention back to Aela who insisted on telling everyone in the hall about their experience with the giant earlier that day. Asmara couldn't help but blush when she got to the part about her shooting an arrow through its hand. Everyone cheered at the end of the story raising their drinks. Asmara tepidly raised her bottle and shrunk into herself from all the attention she was receiving. She was the kind that preferred to go unnoticed and the treatment they gave her was more than overwhelming. She had never felt this type of companionship before but all had a sense of warmth to it she was not used to. It was either that or the mead she was quickly consuming while they all sat around and told stories. After her third bottle she felt a buzz from the drink and decided she should head to bed before she overdid herself.

Farkas escorted her to the living quarters in the basement. She looked in the room and saw there were about eight beds lined against the walls and she looked to Farkas with apprehension. "Just a pick a bed and fall in it. Tilma keeps the place clean, she always has." He told her and she nodded, then walked over to a bed in the back left corner of the room. She said goodnight to the Farkas smiling at him as he walked away. She pulled off her shoes and set her pack next to them before she tucked herself under the fur covers. She stared up at the ceiling before closing her eyes. Blood red eyes stared back at her behind her eyelids and her eyes shot open as a gasp escaped her mouth. It would appear sleep would be just as uneasy as it had been the night before. She turned on her side and faced the wall, staring at the patterns in the stone. She heard the other Companions make their way to bed one by one, until finally her eyes were heavy enough that she had no other choice but to try and let the sleep come; and it did, only to be accompanied by nightmares of blazing fires and black dragons.

* * *

Asmara's eyes flew open as her reappearing nightmare ended. It was the same dream she had been having since Helgen and she almost wished for her old nightmares to return. She sat on the bed with her feet placed on the cold floor and she breathed heavy. She had a light sheen of sweat and noticed the palms of her hands had nail marks on them from her squeezing her palms tightly. She hoped she had not woken any of the Companions sleeping in the room with her but saw there were still a few companions sleeping in their beds peacefully. The one the thought was Torvar was snoring loudly and she was sure his position couldn't have been comfortable. A bottle of mead hung from the hand that drooped over the side of the bed and reached to the floor.

She sat there and attempted to untangle her hair before re-braiding it. When she was satisfied with how her hair was tied, she made her bed to look the same way it had the previous night. She slipped on her leather boots and satchel before heading upstairs as quietly as she could, but apparently was not quiet enough.

"I was hoping I would catch you before you left." She turned around to see Kodlak standing at the base of the stairs, looking as calm as ever. "Before you go, would you mind accompanying me to my quarters? I would like a moment with you if you please." He said and gestured for her to head towards the other end of the basement. She followed all the while a little confused and he instructed her to sit at the table he and Vilkas had occupied the previous night.

"What is this all about?" She asked him as he began to sip at the drink in his mug on the table.

"Some of members of the Circle have taken a liking to you." He said as if she should have already been aware of this. "Yet, you oddly seem to have no interest in joining the Companions. Why is this?" Asmara thoughtfully pondered her answer before speaking.

"I'm not sure I work well with others." She said honestly.

"What makes you say that?" She shrugged her shoulders meekly in response.

"I've always been alone. That's just how it is and has always been. My mother died when I was young and she was the only person I was ever close with. Socialization isn't really part of my daily life."

"Just because something is, doesn't mean it must be." He said simply. They sat in silence for a moment and Asmara thought on his words. She never felt truly comfortable around others but she would be lying to herself if she said she didn't feel a sort of camaraderie within these halls. "After you trip to Bleak Falls, I would like you to return here. There are always open beds for those with a strong heart."

"And what makes you think mine is strong?" She asked.

"I can see it in your eyes. Never in my life have I seen such vibrant eyes as yours. They shine like the sun yet I can see the gloom within them. All warriors come to Jorrvaskr for reasons that are their own, but the reason they remain is the same."

"And what reason would that be?" She asked, tilting her head to the side slightly.

"Family. All of us are broken or flawed in our own ways but here… here the flaws are turned into strengths. We build each other up, and hold out a helping hand when we fall. I have seen that you have fallen one too many times. You may not have come here on your own accord but it doesn't make your presence any less meaningful. The Gods and fate all have a funny way of working those things out."

"So you're saying you think I'm meant to be here?"

"I'm saying you chose to be here, regardless of what the circumstances are." He stood from his chair and she followed suit. He placed a large, warm hand on her shoulder and his serene blue eyes met hers. "I would like to see you in these halls again young one. Even if it is to just have a warm bed for another night. We will welcome you back with open arms like any family should." Asmara just nodded her head then left the room when he dropped his hand from her shoulder.

When she reached the top of the stairs leading from the basement, she looked at the nearly empty mead hall. There was an older woman she had noticed the night before – Tilma she thought her name was – sweeping the far end of the room as well as an older man with dark complexion and grey hair sitting at the table sipping a drink and reading a book. She grabbed her bow and quiver from the weapons rack Farkas had placed them in the night prior and slung them over her shoulder. She made her way towards the front doors and startled when a deep voice spoke to her.

"You're up rather early. I would've thought you'd slept in with all the tossing and turning about you did last night." Vilkas sat in one of the chairs that were up against the half walls that the landings made up. He was reading a book and he was in a rather relaxed position. She hadn't seen him there before when she originally surveyed the room. So she _did_ cause issues with her nightmares that night.

"I didn't know if anyone would hear me." She said with a low voice.

"Most of them didn't." He said, still not looking up from his book.

"But you did." She stated, saying what his statement was meant to portray.

"I hear everything." He said simply.

"Well, then hear my apology. I hadn't meant to keep you up." She said, looking down at her feet.

"I wasn't going to get any rest anyways." He said and she began to get frustrated that he still hadn't looked up from his book. When he didn't say anymore, she turned to leave but then he spoke again. "How long?" He asked and her brows furrowed in confusion. He hadn't looked at her but seemed to know she gave him the look. "How long have you been having nightmares?" He elaborated.

She shrugged her shoulders slightly. "I don't know." She answered and he finally looked up from his book.

"You don't know?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, I don't know." She said, her frustrations leaking into her voice. He regarded her for a moment before he continued his inquiry.

"Do you plan on staying here again?" He asked. She opened her mouth to reply, but she didn't answer immediately. She licked her lips before answering and his eyes caught the motion but they quickly moved back up to her own before she noticed.

"I am not sure. I don't know what will happen after I get this artifact for the Jarl." She replied honestly.

"Bleak Falls Barrow right? The ancient Nord ruin that overlooks Riverwood?" He confirmed and she nodded without saying anything. "There are Draugr in those types of crypts. If you're not quiet you'll awaken them, so be on your guard." He told her.

"Thank you. I can handle myself well though." She said calmly.

"I thought you said you weren't a warrior?" He shot the question at her before he grabbed a mug next to him and sipped at it. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to take it as an insult or not.

"I'm not, but that doesn't mean I can't fight for my life. I've done so before, and I will again if the need arises."

"Well if you _do_ make it out alive, just know what I said before. Jorrvaskr isn't a bunkhouse, so you should keep some coin on you when you return." He said and then turned back to his book. She stood there nearly gaping at him and let out a small laugh to herself.

"I did not come here for room and board. Your brother and Aela invited me out of the kindness of their hearts. But, I'm sure that's something you just don't understand." Asmara shot the last sentence at him and it caught his attention. His steel grey eyes bore into her golden ones and she thought she felt her heart turn to ice. Her breath hitched when he said nothing and just glared and she finally shook her head then turned to walk away before he could say anything.

She nearly ran through the front door and it slammed behind her. She breathed heavy in the crisp morning air and she could feel the humidity rising. She looked off to the west to see storm clouds in the distance and rumble of thunder echoed off the mountains. She hastily made her way down the steps towards the city gates, hoping to make it to the barrow before the storm reached her. It would need to be a quick journey so she began to jog at a brisk pace once she was out of the city limits. She wasn't sure what to expect at the Nordic ruin but she hoped it would be quick journey so she could get on with her simple life in the Rift.

* * *

 **A/N: I know a lot of people are probably wondering what happened to the fight between Vilkas and Asmara. I decided when rewriting this story that some things just wouldn't fit because I didn't want Asmara going out of character. In all honesty, she would have rather stay at the inn that fight for a roof over her head. I didn't find it necessary and it may not follow the game directly but there will be many areas I do verge off the path the game takes for the sake of story telling. I hope this does not bother too many of you and you guys can appreciate the decision. Thanks again!**


	5. Chapter 5

Asmara's trip through Bleak Falls Barrow had been anything but simple. She promised herself that she would explain to Farengar the true definition of the word as retrieving the Dragonstone was not "Simplicity Itself". Asmara perfectly accepted the ruin was originally a burial crypt, but what was unacceptable was that some of those bodies refused to remain buried. She had startled and tripped over her own feet when the first skeleton stood from its resting place and threateningly stalked towards her. She was relieved to find they simply crumbled after merely a few hits to the ribs or an arrow straight through the skull. After the first group she encountered, she picked them off with ease whenever they awoke.

The bandits were another story – also something she hadn't quite anticipated but it wasn't as if she had never dealt with them before. They roamed the unclaimed bits of land throughout Skyrim and they advanced her combat skills and experience. After thinking she had taken out all the bandits, she came across a Dunmer in a spider web, who was in turn guarded by said spider. After releasing him from the web trap and killing the giant frostbite spider, he quickly fled, yelling something about a treasure at the end of the ruin. It was shortly after her first encounter with the live skeletons that she found he was a rusty, ancient Nord sword through his sternum. On his person she found an ornate golden claw with three symbols resembling a bear, a dragonfly, and an owl. She had laughed to herself from the irony as she remembered the fight between the store owners in Riverwood. She had carefully placed the golden claw in her satchel with the intention to return it to its rightful owners. It was later that she found it had its use for one of the old Nord puzzle doors that led to the main chamber which in all honestly resembled a dank cave that had a musky smell. There were waterfalls on the other side of the cave and water from the condensation dripped from the ceiling and pillars. She could hear it storming outside and the heavy rainfall added to the humidity. There was mold on the rocks that lined the cave and Asmara wanted to cover her nose from the smell of it. The rest of the ruin hadn't smelled nearly as bad as this, even with the decaying bodies lining the tombs within the walls.

As she neared the end of the cave, she crossed a small bridge over to a raised area made up of stone. There was large stone wall that curved in a half circle and had, what she thought looked like, a flat dragon skull protruding from the center of the wall. There were etchings and symbols on the bottom part of the wall but she paid no attention to them. She was more focused on the single sarcophagus that sat opposite the wall with a chest to its right and a shelf holding a soul gem – which she pocketed – and a bottle of poison she kept for later use on her arrows. She migrated to the chest and to her surprise it was not locked. She kneeled down and rummaged through it finding some septims, jewelry and a rusty steel chest piece. She placed the valuables in her pack but she continued to search for the tablet she assumed would be in the chest. There was nothing.

She slammed the chest lid, aggravated that she had yet to come across this ancient artifact Farengar had sent her for and she was beginning to think she was just going on some wild chase for a mythical tablet. When she slammed the chest lid it made a large sound that echoed through the cave and she heard some bats flutter about on the other side. What she heard next grated against her spine and her head snapped to her left to see the lid to the sarcophagus open. She quickly got to her feet to see what was making its way out of the coffin and when she saw another skeleton, she pulled a dagger from her boot that she took from one of the bandits. Before the atrocity could climb out, she tried to stab it through the skull. To her surprise, it grabbed her wrist before she made contact and it slowly stood while holding her hand in place. She tried to yank away but its bony fingers held her firmly in its grip. As a wave of panic surged through her she punched the skeleton and his grip weakened and she yanked her hand away but in the process dropped her dagger. The creature shook its head from her punch and she quickly backed away as it continued its pursuit. It withdrew the large ancient great sword from the sheath on its back and charged at her. She backed up nearly running and tripped backwards on the stairs of the dais the sarcophagus sat on. She continued to move backwards on the floor using her elbows and feet as it swung its sword down at her. She rolled over to her right and when its sword hit the ground with a loud clang, she kicked at its knees and they buckled sending him down on one knee as she quickly got back to her feet. Standing in front of it, she readied her bow and sent an arrow flying and the skeleton stood while the arrow was airborne, placing its impact in the exposed lower ribs instead of his head.

Icy blue eyes blazed and its unhinged jaw opened. The next second she heard the loud cracking sound of thunder, but it wasn't from the storm outside. A large force flew from the draugr's mouth and she was flown back into the large curved wall. Her back hit it with a hard blow and she fell to the floor completely out of breath. Her vision blurred and darkened and she began to hear chanting voices in her head. She shook her head thinking the blow must have been much harder than she thought, but she tried to clear her mind as the creature came at her again. She saw her bow was just in arms reach and she snatched it before the sword came barreling down at her again. She held her bow above her to block the attack and it splintered in the middle when the sword connected. It raised its arms again for a second blow and she kicked her feet at its pelvic bone. It staggered back and she crawled away, still weary from the shock of hitting the wall.

Once again, the skeleton regained its composure all too quickly and she crawled faster diving down another set of stairs and hiding behind the stone platform the chest sat on. She tried to catch her breath, the voices fading as she looked at her damaged bow. Shooting anything with it was out of the question. The creature appeared to her right and she quickly darted away again, but not quick enough to avoid the tips of its sword grazing her right arm. She pushed herself onto her feet while clutching her arm as blood spilled from the wound. The wound hurt worse than any cut she had felt, it burned but not the type of burn you would receive from playing with fire. No, this was an ice cold burn, the same kind she would get when her bare skin held contact with the snow for too long in the middle of winter. She had no weapons and this thing seemed to have some sort of magical power radiating from its weapon and not to forget what it did when it shouted at her.

Feeling hopeless, she knew all she could do at this point was try to dodge the attacks. She continued rounding the platform, hearing its boney feet clatter against the stone floor of the cave. As she ran up the stairs facing the round wall again, the voices in her head returned and she almost cried from it. She was so flustered already and it made her feel as if she was going mad. She fell to her knees, almost giving up. When she landed she looked over to her left and saw the dagger she had dropped earlier. She turned her head to see the skeleton approaching and she dove over to the dagger, snatching it with her uninjured arm and threw. She had never been overly accurate with her left hand and she only hoped the dagger would meet its target. Her eyes followed the blade as it spun through the air and connected with one of the skeletons glowing blue eyes. She released the breath she was holding and the skeleton fell backward as its bones crumbled with the torso still intact from the armor it was wearing. She slowly and cautiously crawled over to the skeleton, just to make sure it was actually dead (or more so than it already was). When she approached it, she noticed the flat stone tablet stuck within its ribs and she laughed dry laugh to herself in disbelief as she split open the ribcage and yanked it out. She dusted it off to see the markings on it, not at all understanding what they meant. She shuffled back over to where her pack was next to the chest and after she put the Dragonstone safely among her things, she leaned back against the now open sarcophagus with her right foot under her left knee. She closed her eyes composing herself and breathed in through her nose and out her mouth, trying to steady her raging heartbeat from the fight. Her back ached and her arm was still burning slightly but had stopped bleeding for the most part. She sat that way for a few moments with her blood stained hands in her lap, still as could be and she reveled in the silence. Then the voices slowly came back.

She barely opened her eyes and stared at the curved wall across from her. The voices were a soft whisper in the back of her head and it sounded more like combined chanting than random mutters. She widened her eyes more when she noticed a blue glow emanating from the wall. She stared at it a moment longer and blinked a few times to clear her vision. She climbed to her feet and slowly walked over towards the wall, mesmerized by the blue glowing symbols. As she drew closer the chanting in her head grew louder but it pushed her on. When she reached the wall, she ran her fingers over the glowing symbols as the chanting was like a roar in her head. Suddenly she was wrapped in the blue glow and she fell to her knees, choking on the light that swarmed around her and the chanting was nearly screaming in her ears. She closed her eyes while trying to gasp for air and covered her ears until suddenly the chanting ceased and she could breathe again. She opened her eyes and the light was gone. She looked to where the wall had been glowing and it was just symbols etched into the stone, nothing extraordinary about them. She ran her fingers over them again and she shook her head trying to clear her mind. The chanting may have been gone, but like a small itch in the back of her head, the word " _Fus_ " repeated itself over and over. She tried to ignore it, but couldn't grasp the meaning of the word and it made her slightly frustrated. She stood at the wall, still staring at the etchings. She was unsure of how long she had remained there, but when she finally grabbed her things and left the cave, night had nearly fallen. It was around noon when she had entered the barrow and she was surprised at how long she had been there. It stormed outside, the wind blowing her disheveled hair around her.

She slowly and carefully climbed down the rocks of the mountain, finding a cluster of bones and animal parts at the bottom. She only hoped that she would not run into any trouble seeing as her only real weapon was broken. She supposed she could still use her arrows if she needed to, but they could only do so much. She took in her surroundings trying to gauge where exactly she was. When she looked up the mountain, she could no longer see the ominous black arches that hovered over the entrance to the ruin. She looked opposite the mountain and saw a lake before her and decided it was best to follow the flow of the water. If she was anywhere near Riverwood, the river would lead her straight there; if not, it would surely lead to a mill.

She continued to follow the edge of the water and it formed into a small river, as it wrapped around the mountain. Soon she was able to see the arches she had been looking for and knew Riverwood was not far. She crossed the river when the water became shallow enough for her to hop on the stones and random debris to get across to the cobblestone path that was on the other side. She followed the road until finally Riverwood was in sight and she heaved a sigh of relief when she reached the gates. She was soaked from the rain and was sure she smelled similar to the moldy cave she had just been through. She considered stopping by Gerdur's house but decided against it seeing how late it was and walked towards the inn instead. She finally had a few septims from her journey through the tombs, after picking some off the dead skeletons and finding a few in the chests she had lock picked her way into.

She entered the inn and approached the gruff Nord man at the bar, then handed him the ten septims he requested for a room. He motioned over to a room on her left; she thanked him and made her way to the room that had a bed set against the far left corner with a chest sitting at the end of it. There was a small table with a pitcher of water and a small wooden chair next to it. The room also contained a large wardrobe against the left wall and a fur wall decoration above the left side of the bed. She found a bowl and put some oils in to help rid her of the god's awful smell she was covered with and she filled the bowl with the water in the pitcher that was sitting on the end table. The water was not warm, but at this point she did not care seeing as she was already sopping wet. She found a rag in the wardrobe and she scrubbed herself raw until she was sure the stench had left her skin. She used the remaining water to wash the rest of the smell out of her hair. She made sure to also treat the wound on her arm, pouring half of a health potion on it before she wrapped it in the bandages she had in her pack. After she felt she was clean and the wound was well tended, she laid her dirty, wet clothes out to dry and changed into the green leggings and white male's shirt she found in the wardrobe. The shirt was a bit large but once she tucked it into the pants and adjusted her belt it worked just fine. She set her broken bow and quiver in the chair, and then climbed into bed. She was so exhausted it was only moments before she fell asleep with a tick in the back of her head that continued to repeat the unknown word.

The next morning she reluctantly awoke, her body feeling much heavier than it actually was. Her back still ached and she arched and twisted her back to stretch as she sat up. After she gathered all her belongings, she headed out of the inn, making sure to hand the innkeeper some septims for the clothes she had taken from her room. She backtracked towards the Riverwood Trader, needing another new bow and hoped they would have one in stock. She also needed to return their stolen dragon claw and was sure they'd be happy to see it.

She walked through the door to the Traders to find the merchant hunched over the counter looking bored and depressed. His sister remained seated at the table eating her breakfast, still sending the occasional glare towards her brother. The merchant stood straight when he spotted Asmara and she walked over and placed her broken bow on the counter. He looked at it nearly dumbstruck before she spoke.

"It served me well, but I wouldn't advise blocking a great sword with it in the future." She said and he held up the splintered piece of wood and eyed it carefully. After his examination he set the bow down and sighed before speaking.

"I don't have any more in stock like this one, but Alvor across the way may be able to repair it. He's the local blacksmith and crafts pretty decent weapons." He said to her and she nodded before taking the bow back.

"Well in that case I do have one more thing for you." He studied her as she reached into her pack and pulled out the golden claw. She heard a gasp come from behind her and Lucan stared excitedly wide eyed at the object in her hands.

"You found it? Ha! There it is!" He took it from her and he examined it, chuckling to himself. "Strange… it seems smaller than I remember. Funny thing, huh?" Asmara just nodded but smiled slightly at the exchange. He looked to her and smiled wide. "I'm going to put this back where it belongs. I'll never forget this. You've done a great thing for me and my sister." He said and he placed it on display on the counter. Asmara went to leave but he stopped here. "Thank you so much for taking care of those thieves. Here," He reached underneath the counter and handed her a purse full of coin, "take this as a token of my appreciation. It should help pay to get that bow repaired." Asmara took the coin purse and was almost shocked by the amount she saw inside.

"This is more than generous thank you. Honestly, I didn't expect to find it where I did, but it came in handy. Apparently it opened the main hall up in Bleak Falls Barrow." She explained.

"Hm… that would make sense. Our family has been in Riverwood for generations. The claw is a family heirloom and surely we have some ancestors buried in that crypt. I just never thought about it before." The merchant said, glancing at his now happy sister.

"Well now you have something to share with your children." Asmara said before she turned and left the store.

She walked across the road to find the blacksmith hard at work in his forge. She cleared her throat to get his attention and he stopped his hammering to attend to her. She held up her broken bow and he took it from her without a word and examined it. He nodded in a thoughtful way as he twisted and turned the bow, looking at it from every angle. "I should be able to mend this." He stated simply and Asmara smiled at him with a hopeful look on her face.

"You can? How soon will it be ready?" She asked. He pondered her question for a second before answering.

"First let me ask, where did you get this?" He questioned her. When she told him he nodded in understanding. "I figured as much. Any good blacksmith would be able to recognize his own work when he sees it. How you broke it though gets me."

"A blow to the center with a great sword." She explained.

"Yeah, that'll do it. Tell you what. I have one just like this in my shop. With a little extra coin I can just give you the new one and I can just repair this, and then resell it later." Asmara pondered the deal for only a moment before shaking his soot stained hand to complete the deal.

* * *

Asmara entered Farengar's study to see he was not currently alone. She stood patiently in the doorway as he conversed with the hooded figure hunched over his desk, analyzing an old and worn book.

"You see? The terminology is clearly First Era or even earlier. I'm convinced this is a copy of a much older text. Perhaps dating to just after the Dragon War. If so, I could use this to cross-reference the names with other later texts." Farengar spoke to the hooded woman. Asmara would have been more impressed by his knowledge on the subject if it wasn't for the slight contempt she held for him after her trip to the barrow.

"Good. I'm glad you're making progress. My employers are anxious to have some tangible answers." The woman spoke. She sounded middle aged, but experienced. Asmara couldn't help wonder though, exactly who her employers were and what they could do with the information she was about to hand over.

"Oh, have no fear. The Jarl himself has finally taken an interest, so I'm now able to devote most of my time to this research." Asmara wanted to point out that the Jarls sudden interest was due to dragons returning. If they hadn't, this "research" would almost seem meaningless.

"Time is running out, Farengar, don't forget. This isn't some theoretical question. Dragons have come back." Well at least someone was on the same page as Asmara.

"Yes, yes. Don't worry. Although the chance to see a living dragon up close would be tremendously valuable. Now, let me show you something else I found… very intriguing… I think your employers may be interested as well…" Farengar continued, rummaging through his desk and throwing papers here and there. The hooded woman looked to Asmara who still stood in the doorway. Asmara gave a bored sigh and moved towards the pair.

"You have a visitor." The woman said to get Farengar's attention as he rambled on. He stopped what he was doing and smiled wide when he saw Asmara and the smile grew when he saw she had the Dragonstone in hand.

"Ah, yes, the Jarl's protégé! Back from Bleak Falls Barrow? You didn't die it seems." He said and Asmara's eyebrows shot up as she was slightly taken aback by the statement.

"Simplicity itself?" Asmara said and she saw Farengar's confused expression under his mage hood. "You said simplicity itself and now I come back and you're surprised I'm alive?" She paused, then scoffed when he didn't say anything. "Do you know what creature guarded this stone?" She said holding out the tablet. "A draugr." She let out a small laugh before continuing, "I thought they were just children's stories until I was face to face with one when he shouted me against a wall. I COULD have very well perished by his blade and this Dragonstone would have remained lost." She said, nearly slamming the tablet on the table. "Next time you need someone to go on a suicide mission, volunteer yourself!"

"My…" he looked to the hooded woman then back at Asmara, stuttering as he spoke. The hooded woman seemed amused by the confrontation. "My associate here will be pleased to see your handiwork. It was she who discovered its location… by means she has so far declined to share with me." As he spoke the last words he turned his attention to his "associate."

"So your information was correct after all. And we have our friend here to thank for recovering it for us." He said gesturing to Asmara. The hooded woman surveyed her but didn't appear to be impressed at all, regardless of what she said next.

"You went into Bleak Falls Barrow on your own and got that? Nice work." Those were her only words to Asmara before she turned her attention back to Farengar. "Just send me a copy when you've deciphered it." She then left the room, leaving Asmara and Farengar on their own. Farengar looked to Asmara but she nearly glared back.

"If this is all you and your Jarl need of me, I'll take my leave as well." Farengar just nodded and thanked her again. Asmara stormed out of the room and passed the hooded woman on her way out of Dragonsreach.

She huffed down the stairs into the Wind District. The Talos priest continued to shout to the sky about the almighty God and Asmara just tuned him out as she rounded the great tree in the center of the circle. As she descended the set of stairs that led to the market she heard a familiar voice but not one she expected.

"Hey! My favorite drinking buddy!" She turned her attention to the voice and saw one of the Companions standing with a case of mead in his arms. "On my back from the meadery. Wanted to see what they've been brewing up. You can smell the honey on the wind. They gave me a case to take back to Jorrvaskr. Why don't you come try some of it with us?" He asked and she blanched. He began to head back up the stairs and she stood there looking after him. When he reached the top he turned back towards her and gestured with a jerk of his head for her to follow. She took a deep breath and then willed herself to climb the steps.

Once she caught up with him, they continued their small trek to the mead hall. "Kodlak was expecting you. Though, we weren't sure how long it would take for you to come back but he seemed pretty sure of himself." The companion said. He had dark golden blonde hair and a long beard to match. He wasn't a hefty man but she could tell he was a Nord. She could see a bit of a belly underneath his leather armor and he sort of reeked of mead. She remembered drinking with him the night she stayed at Jorrvaskr but for the life of her, could not remember his name.

"I'm sorry, do not feel insulted but what was your name?" She asked hesitantly. He laughed loudly before answering.

"Usually I'm the forgetful one." He said with a chuckle, "The names Torvar." Asmara nodded her head, committing the name to memory.

"Asmara right?" He asked and she nodded again. "Weird name but eh." He said as he shrugged his shoulders.

They pushed through the doors to Jorrvaskr and she was greeted by the same smells as before. Tilma was setting the tables, readying for dinner and Asmara's stomach growled when she caught a whiff of some roast. She couldn't place the type of meat but it smelled divine.

Once again she was abandoned at the threshold but it didn't bother her as much this time. She figured since she was here she would visit Kodlak. She hadn't truly promised she would return but like he said before, she found her way here regardless of the circumstances. She didn't see him in the main hall so she headed off towards the basement. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she came face to face with a wide chest in the wolf armor that seemed to be a popular fashion choice in Jorrvaskr. She looked up and met friendly silver eyes framed by black war paint.

"Heya. I wasn't sure if you'd come back." Farkas said to her and she smiled back up at him as she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Um, yeah. Torvar caught me on my way out. He insisted I try some of the new mead from the brewery but honestly, I'm just here to see Kodlak." She said to him.

"He's in his quarters. Want me to walk with you?" He asked and she shook her head.

"Thank you but, I think I can make it down the hall on my own." He nodded and she thought she saw something flash in his eyes but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"Well, we're all about to head up for dinner. You should join us when you're finished speaking with Kodlak." He said as he started up the stairs backwards not taking his eyes off her. She just nodded then headed off towards the end of the hall where Kodlak's study resided.

The doors were open and he was seated at the desk against the left wall. She knocked softly on the door and his features turned friendly when he caught sight of her. "You've returned." He said and she took a step into the space of the room.

"I have." She said, her hands twiddling with the end of her long braid. "Torvar said you were expecting me." Kodlak nodded in understanding, and then walked over to the corner table he seemed to favor. He gestured for her sit down and she did. He handed her a bottle of mead but she declined.

"Why have you returned to Jorrvaskr?" He asked her, taking a sip from his own mead.

"I'm not sure honestly." She answered, her brows slightly furrowed at the confusion in her own statement. "Because you asked me to?"

"I don't think that is why." He said.

"Then you know more than I." She replied, looking down at the floor.

"You search for what we all found here within these walls."

"And that is?" She looked back at him and he regarded her for a moment.

"When I was just a boy, I lost my family. After that, I had the fire of a man in my heart and eventually, my body caught up to my spirit. My predecessor, Askar, found me in Hammerfell. I was serving as body guard for some weak-necked lord out there. He brought me back here, and I realized… that I was actually coming home. Now, I work to bring honor to this family, and to the family that I lost. For my mother, my father and grandfather. For all my Shield-Siblings." He paused and took a sip of his mead. "Everyone here found family. They found a home. Just ask any of them and they'll tell you what it truly means to be a Companion. Family and honor. That's what it means to be one of us."

Asmara stared at the older man and felt her heart squeeze tightly in her chest. This man welcomed her into his home and his family. Yet, she could not help but still feel an overwhelming sense of dread of what were to happen should she join this family.

"What I said before still stands. You are always welcome in the halls of Jorrvaskr and maybe one day… you may call it home too." Asmara remained silent as he finished off his mead. "Come. Let us go enjoy the feast Tilma has prepared for us in the mead hall. You should stay and rest here tonight if you truly plan on leaving tomorrow." Asmara just nodded and followed him into the mead hall up the stairs.

Farkas was seated next to his brother at the table and he stood up to greet her. He pulled out the empty chair next to him and invited her to sit. She smiled politely up at him, but couldn't help but catch the ice cold stare coming from his twin. She swallowed hard and looked away, trying her best to avoid him. But like before, his gaze was unwavering.

A plate of food was placed in front of her and her stomach embarrassingly growled but Farkas just smiled. As everyone began to eat Kodlak directed everyone's attention towards her.

"So, Asmara, tell us of your trip to Bleak Falls Barrow." Asmara met the eyes of everyone at the table and shrunk into her chair slightly. She swallowed her food before speaking.

"It was… adventurous." She said before stuffing a spoonful of food into her mouth.

"Come now, there must be more to tell us than that." He said and everyone patiently waited for her to continue.

"Well… there were draugr. That was… um…" She looked at everyone, trying to think of the best word to use to describe her experience with the draugr who nearly killed her. "Ground shattering." She chose, but shook her head at herself for her poor choice of words.

"Draugr? Did you get anything interesting from them? You can usually find some ancient artifacts hidden away with them." Farkas said to her.

"Well, Farengar had originally sent me there to get this tablet called the Dragonstone. I don't know what it was for, but he said it had to do with the dragons." She explained.

"Dragons? What dragons?" Vilkas spoke up. "I wouldn't trust everything you hear." He said, before he took a bite of his food. Not looking at her as he spoke.

Asmara stared at him, and opened her mouth to speak but stopped short. She couldn't tell them she was at Helgen. No one could know. Who knows what would happen if the Imperials found her. None of them had a name from her and may not even know she made it through alive but she wouldn't take the chance.

"It was a favor for the Jarl. To what it pertained to was none of my business. He asked me to fetch the artifact and I did." She said plainly and he only glanced at her once before he turned his attention back to the meal in front of him.

To ease the tone of the conversation Farkas continued to ask her questions about her trip. She answered them and when she finished with the details of her story – omitting her experience with the wall of symbols and the blue aura – they all raised their glasses and toasted to her safe return.

The drinking and communion continued into the night. They all jabbed and joked with one another often stirring laughs from the rest of the group. Even Kodlak made a few jokes and she found it comforting that he was treated as one of them and not the Harbinger he claimed to be. Though he gave off the persona of a leader, he acted just as their equal. She assumed that was why they were all called "The Companions" because it very much defined the relationships they had built with one another. She wondered to herself if she would ever be considered one if she often left to be by herself, only returning when she strived for the social connection they provided.

After one too many drinks, her weariness hit her heavily and she excused herself from their company. She headed downstairs and found the bed she had previously stayed in. She dressed down to just her leathers and tunic, then flopped down onto the bed, a few strands of hay flying out from the impact. She draped her arm over her eyes and sighed.

She remained that way for a few moments, just listening to her breathing. It was when she heard quiet footsteps that she removed her arm and sat up to face the doorway. Vilkas stood there, leaning up against the frame with his arms crossed. He looked at her as if he was eyeing up an enemy that was ready to attack and it brought back that feeling of unease he gave her.

"Vilkas." She said softly and his head tilted to the side slightly.

"Asmara." His deep voice responded and it sent unfamiliar shivers down her spine. She couldn't grasp how different he was from his overly friendly brother. Vilkas was intense in every meaning of the word and hard. He represented the true definition of a cold blooded warrior. "I see you'll be staying with us for one more night." He stated.

"Kodlak invited me." She said hastily feeling the need to explain herself after their last encounter.

"I am aware." He said nothing more. She looked towards the end of the bed, trying her best not to look at him. After a few moments of silence she finally spoke up.

"Why are you here?" His eyes met hers and he remained silent for a moment.

"Do find me heartless?" The question took her for surprise and she was unsure of how to respond. She shook her head slightly but he was not happy with the simple gesture. "You're so speechless now, yet you had plenty to say the other morning."

"No, I do not think you to be heartless." She answered quickly to appease him. He gave a short nod at the answer but she continued before he could leave. "But that doesn't mean you have a warm heart." She made eye contact with him and his icy eyes matched the coldness that radiated from his stiff body. She would not look away this time for she would not give him the gratification. She swallowed loudly before he gave her a nod and turned to leave. She let out a shaky breath and remained frozen on the bed. She shivered, suddenly feeling cold and tucked herself under the furs. She faced the wall as she lay down and when she closed her eyes, bright grey eyes with an intensity that shook her to the core were what haunted her dreams that night.


	6. Chapter 6

Vilkas awoke from his usual restless sleep. He stared at the ceiling with dreary eyes before he forced himself to sit up, and swing his legs over the side of the bed. He dragged his hands over his face, still trying to regain some sort of consciousness. He stared at the floor with his right elbow resting on his knee, his hand hanging between his legs, and his left palm placed against his thigh. He so badly wanted a good night's sleep, just once. It had been almost two decades since the last time he slept through the night due to the damn beast blood that he took all too willingly at the time. He was too focused on the power that came with it, instead of the troubles it would add to his already battling emotions. If only he could go back, and warn his younger self of the downsides, but it was all in the past now.

He had convinced Farkas to take it too, and now they were both dealing with sleepless nights, among other things. Farkas always could handle his anger better, and it only heightened Vilkas'. He knew he had a hard time controlling it, admitted it to himself time and again, even before the beast blood. Though when the moments came, he would let it control him, just as he always had. At first there were some serious close calls. Skjor and Kodlak would have to drag him through the under forge as he was changing to keep him from causing a massacre. That was back when he had often feasted on the flesh of bandits or other cruel humanoids. He never hurt the innocent, but he had a too many near incidents before he could gain control. That was years ago though, and he had decided to try and hold off his changes as much as possible. Kodlak was convinced there was a cure, so he and Farkas would wait to hunt until it was no longer an option. It had been a couple months since he last hunted, and he knew he would have to change soon; he never could last as long as his brother. He grew more and more restless every day, and it would only be a matter of time.

Kodlak was running out of time, though. The man was old, older than Skjor. He had taken a decent amount of damage over the years, and it took its toll. The old man was like a father to him, and he worried every day that it might be Kodlak's last. He had trouble moving around sometimes, let alone fighting. His joints had begun to ache, and crack when he moved. He'd have often have chest pains under too much stress, but it kept the beast at bay. Vilkas had tried taking his place for a job on multiple occasions, but the stubborn Harbinger wouldn't have it. He said it helped keep him alive and healthy though Vilkas wasn't so sure. He still had the fire in him, and he knew he wouldn't go down without a fight, but maybe it was just that. He wanted a warrior's death. Even if he wasn't heading to Sovngarde afterwards, it would still make all the difference to him.

He finally stood as he pulled himself away from his depressing thoughts, and he walked over to his wardrobe to find some underclothes for his armor. He found some black trousers and a shirt to match, and then threw them on before he lugged on his wolf armor. He had honestly grown tired of the look, but as a member of the circle, he felt it was an obligation to keep up appearances. He walked out of his room, and towards the hall, the armor weighing heavier than usual on him in his weary state. As he passed the main quarters, he noticed many of the whelps were still sleeping. Torvar was loudly snoring, and he could hear Ria grinding her teeth again. The sound caused a small shiver to run down his spine.

What he didn't hear was the tossing and turning he heard a few morning prior. He poked his head through the door and saw her bed was made and her equipment gone. Maybe she finally left. Maybe last night was too much for her. He knew he had said too much, pushed too far. His mouth was always getting him into trouble whether it be women or drunken idiots at an inn. He often said what was on his mind, and it did not bother him to know or care who heard it.

He took the stairs to the mead hall two at a time and when he walked towards the tables, he found his brother and Skjor in their usual spots. Vignar was in his chair on the far end of the room and with the hearing his beast blood gave him, he could hear the old man snoring. Tilma was busying herself with random chores and Brill sat next to Vignar, reading a book. Vilkas heard one extra heartbeat among the people in the room that he could not see and as he approached the tables near his brother he caught sight of long rich brown hair peeking out from behind him. So she hadn't left yet. Vilkas sighed and he wasn't sure if it was from relief or exasperation.

He bypassed his brother to take a seat near Skjor. The man did not always keep the best conversation, but Vilkas had never cared, seeing he was not much for it himself anyways. He grabbed himself some food, though he couldn't help but notice the animated conversation Farkas was having with his new friend. How his brother was overly friendly towards her, he could not understand. He had an immediate infatuation with the girl and originally Vilkas shrugged it off as he always did when Farkas became excited over a woman. But this was… different. Farkas had obviously been flirting with the girl every time he saw her, but Vilkas was sure she didn't take the hint in her ignorance.

She was different from Farkas' usual lay. He liked the smaller and fragile ones, but he wanted a woman to protect, to have children with. He can't count the number of times he brought Ysolda to his bed. She seemed to be his favorite recently, but now it seems he's moved on. Though Asmara was small, he could tell she had a certain ardor and fierceness about her. He could see it in her eyes. Her eyes were almost the same color of the wolf that lurked in his blood but they were so… luminescent. They seemed to shine on their own accord like the sun. They were truly the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen and it should have made him sick… but it didn't. The wolf within him howled for her. The moment their eyes met the wolf growled in appreciation, something it had not done before.

She was also different from the women of the Companions. While he found Aela and even Njada to both be strong feminine warriors, they were still tall and gave off an intimidating aura. He learned his lesson a long time ago to not toy around with Aela, sometimes he still paid for it. Asmara may be shorter than Nord women, but she wasn't as stubby as some of the Breton's he had met. She was just short for being any kind of warrior and he chuckled out loud at the thought of her going against the giant she helped take down the other day. Skjor looked at him weird at his random laugh, and Vilkas shrugged at him as he continued eating. It would explain why she favored archery; someone like her would have difficulty wielding a sword and shield, or a great sword.

They continued to converse after he had finished his breakfast, and he wondered what they could possibly talk about for so long. He looked up when he heard a very feminine laugh, and saw her covering her mouth, trying to suppress it as Farkas laughed with her. Why would she do that? She had a lovely laugh, he thought to himself, but quickly shoved the thought aside as if it was never there. She brushed her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit of hers he had noticed, revealing her slightly pointed ears. She had many features of a Wood Elf but he wasn't sure she was a full blooded elf. Her eyes were that of a human, even with their unnatural hue. He continued to ponder the possibilities as he stared at her from afar. He was driven from his reverie when he noticed she was looking back. He blinked his eyes a few times and shook his head, pulling his gaze from her to continue his breakfast.

Before he finally got up to leave, tiring of hearing his brother flirting with the newcomer, the front doors to the hall burst open. The Jarl's housecarl, Irileth, stood there, trying to catch her breath. Skjor quickly stood as his chair moved out behind him, the legs scraping against the floor loudly. Vilkas stood following Skjor as he addressed her.

"Irileth? What is wrong?" Skjor demanded.

"The Jarl calls for your aid." She spoke while taking breaths between her words. "A dragon's been sighted nearby!" She looked at Asmara, just now noticing she was there. "You!" She pointed at her, "You should come too!" Asmara blanched, confusion etched into her face.

"What!? Why me?" She choked out.

"You survived Helgen! You have more experience with dragons than anyone else here!" She shouted at her. Everyone looked towards Asmara. She had never mentioned being at Helgen. Vilkas had called them all rumors just the night before and she said nothing in rebuttal to his accusation. Vilkas wondered what she would have been doing there. Rumors had circulated that Ulfric Stormcloak, and a handful of other rebels had been there as well, and it spiked his curiosity. Was she a Stormcloak sympathizer? It had not made sense, especially with her words from the previous night.

"Yeah, experience running from them!" Asmara exclaimed. "Not sure if you knew, but that Dragon destroyed the villiage, burnt it to the ground. Then it flew away, not a scratch on it."

"Well, if it decides to attack Whiterun I don't know if we can stop it, but we can at least try. I've already instructed a few of my guards to wait by the gates. Meet us there, and we will head to the western watch tower." Irileth stated before running back out the door. It was quiet for a second in the hall, and then Vilkas finally spoke.

"Why haven't you mentioned you were at Helgen?" He asked her directly. She opened her mouth to respond but Skjor spoke first.

"It doesn't matter Vilkas. We need to gather anyone who is ready and go kill us a dragon." Skjor moved for the stairs, heading down to the living quarters to gather the other Companions.

"Irileth was right; regardless of how you dealt with the last dragon, you should go. If not to fight it, at least give some sort of advice. You can always stay back, and use your bow. We need all the help we can get." Farkas said to Asmara and she slowly nodded at him, still in shock. Vilkas and Farkas ran down to their rooms after Skjor to grab their weapons.

Vilkas stopped at the Harbinger's quarters to find Kodlak was already awake and hunched over at his desk. He stood when Vilkas entered the room fully armored. "A dragon is attacking. Skjor and Farkas are gathering the others. We are meeting Irileth at the gates." He stated, and Kodlak looked at him in surprise.

"A dragon? So the rumors were true?" Vilkas nodded at his rhetorical question. "Let me come with you, you'll need all the help you can get." Vilkas gently grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Old man, we're talking about a dragon. Are you sure you should be heading out with us?" Kodlak looked at him, Vilkas' eyebrows knitted together in worry.

"This is the first dragon sighted in nearly four eras. I won't pass up the opportunity to take down the beast." Kodlak responded and Vilkas sighed, running a gloved hand down his face.

"Kodlak please, for the love of Talos. If there's one dragon, I'm sure there are bound to be others. Let us take down this first one so we know what we are dealing with." Vilkas pleaded with him and Kodlak could see it in his eyes. He nodded solemnly and Vilkas left. He walked straight to the other end of the hallway, and banged on the open door to wake up the rest of the companions. They all awoke startled, Torvar falling off his bed with a loud thud.

"Wake up, there's a dragon we're going to need help. They all jumped up at the word dragon, and he yelled for someone to go wake Aela, but she was already walking down the hall fully armored, and her bow slung over her shoulder. He figured Skjor must have woken her. After a few minutes they met up at the front doors together, and traveled to meet with Irileth. When they arrived, she was prepping her guards, and shortly after, she motioned them all to follow her.

Vilkas had his great sword, a bow, and quiver, and even made sure to bring a few daggers with him, just as a precaution. He had one strapped to his chest, another on his belt, and one more strapped to his boot. He wasn't about to go fight a dragon unprepared. He had killed one of everything in Skyrim, and he was going to make sure a dragon was added to that list. He led the other companions behind Irlieth, and when the watch tower was in view, they could see the surrounding fires, and rubble from the building scattered around its perimeter. They gathered just outside the debris, and smoke coated the air they were breathing. With his strong sense of smell the beast blood provided him, he could smell the burning flesh a great distance away, and it was horribly disturbing.

"No signs of any dragon right now, but it sure looks like he's been here." Irileth stated after they stopped, a hand over her eyes as she looked towards the watch tower. She turned to face the rest of them, "I know it looks bad, but we've got to figure out what happened. And if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere." She turned back, and unsheathed her weapon, and started running towards the tower, yelling over her shoulder as everyone followed. "Spread out, and look for survivors! We need to know what we're dealing with."

Vilkas motioned for the other companions to follow, and they all migrated towards the burning rubble with their weapons drawn. The smoke got heavier, and the scorching smell stronger the closer they got. Aela ran up on a large chunk of rubble that had a slope that stood over his head. She took in the area, covering her brow with her hand while trying to see through the smoke. "What do you see?" He yelled up to her.

"Nothing yet! There are a lot of dead guards Vilkas." She looked at him with concern on her face. Irileth ran up the ramp leading to the entrance of the tower, and a guard came out yelling for them to get back, holding his hands in front him of him.

"No! Get back! It's still here somewhere! Hroki, and Tor were just grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!" Soon after, a loud roar echoed in the mountains. "Kynareth save us! Here it comes again!" They all turned towards the roar, but couldn't see anything through the smoke. He heard Aela's yell.

"It's approaching from the South! Get ready!" She readied an arrow, and aimed towards the sky, preparing to fire once the dragon was in range. Vilkas yelled for the rest of them to ready their bows to fire as he did so himself. He could hear the flap of wings before he saw the dragon. He quickly pulled an arrow, and aimed at the dragon appearing through the smoke. "Aim for the wings!" Aela carried out the instruction as she launched what was her first arrow at the abomination.

The dragon circled around above them. He heard its intake of breath and the shout just before he exhaled an obscene amount of fire, catching a few of the guards on fire. An ice Mage quickly made it over to them, dousing the fire before it crippled them severely. The stench of burning flesh grew and Vilkas almost gagged from the smell. They bombarded the dragon with arrows, he could see them sticking from his underbelly and wings. However, with every strong flap of its wings, a number of arrows would dislodge themselves from its body. The dragon seemed invincible. Vilkas was unsure of how they would defeat the large creature. He could feel the beast blood lurking up on him from the excitement of the fight, but he held it at bay as he continued to fire arrows at the dragon.

It continued its assault as they continuously fired arrows from below. "We need to get to higher ground!" He yelled as he ran for the tower, ready to run up the spiraling ramp to the roof. Just before he took his first step on the slope, a hand reached for his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He turned to see who the hand belonged to, and he saw those familiar yellow eyes.

"No! Don't! He'll tear that building apart with you on it!" She screamed over the roar of the monster. He yanked his arm away and continued his ascent. Only a moment later, another deafening roar echoed through the area, growing tremendously close to him. He turned to his right and saw the dragon swooping down at him. Before its large talons could grab him and the other guard stationed there, he felt small hands wrap around his shins, yanking him so he fell to the ground on his chest. The dragon missed him, but sadly grabbed the poor fellow that had been standing there alongside him. He tossed the man to the ground from above the tower and his screams were cut off when he landed on the ground below him. Vilkas looked down to see Asmara holding onto his legs, a combination of concern and fear plastered on her face. He nodded at her in silent thanks as she quickly got back to her feet and aimed her bow at the dragon above them.

"Thuri du hin sil ko Sovngarde!" The dragon roared before he shouted another roaring flame at them. Asmara fired an arrow, sending it straight through his already weakened right wing and he roared in pain. She quickly drew another arrow, aiming for the same wing in an attempt to bring the dragon down. "I had forgotten what faantak you joor provide!" He cackled as he headed back towards Vilkas and Asmara.

Vilkas heard the dragon's intake of breath before the shout and he grabbed Asmara around the waist as she aimed another arrow, causing her to drop it in surprise. He quickly jumped down from the ramp they were on, pulling her with him. He yanked her to him, huddling against the wall of the ramp. He brought them close to the ground, covering her head with his right hand, holding it against his chest. She was curled between his knees as he hunched over her before a blazing fire raged above them while the dragon passed overhead. He released her and quickly moved her head up to look at him. Seeing no evident burns or markings he brought her back to her feet as he stood.

He aimed another arrow along with her, ready to shoot before she spoke. "His right wing has already taken damage. Aim for the soft spot underneath!" She hollered over the chaos surrounding them. He nodded as he sent his arrow flying and it hit the edge of the wing, causing a screech to come from the dragon. Asmara ran out from behind the ramp and took aim when the dragon turned towards the tower once again. He swooped down towards the ground, ready to snatch her up. She quickly drew two arrows from her quiver and squared her feet, waiting for the dragon to move closer. Vilkas looked at her in disbelief as she fired both arrows towards the dragon. The first flew straight to the middle of the damaged wing while the other strayed and hit his hind leg. The dragon curled in on itself, its wings surrounding it as it hurtled towards the ground. Asmara went to move from the dragon's incoming collision, but its left wing clipped her as it slid, sending her flying into a nearby block of rubble. The dragon slid a few hundred yards before coming to a stop, sending a thick cloud of dust and dirt into the air.

The dirt cloud blocked Vilkas' vision and he heard Asmara coughing for air. He crouched next to her as her head rolled around on her shoulders. There was a large gash on her head from the impact of hitting the rubble, and blood was trickling down her face. "Can you stand?" He asked her and she nodded her head as she took his offered hand. He pulled her to her feet then he took off running towards the sound of the dragon and the rest of his companions. He withdrew his great sword after slinging his bow across his torso. He charged out into the clearing to find the dragon rising to its feet.

"Bahlaan paal! Hin viik drun zey zin!" The dragon roared as it spread its wings, turning to face them, knocking away Athis and Njada, who had closed in on the dragon, with its tail. Vilkas charged at the thing, seeing Farkas to his right in his peripherals running alongside him. The dragon sucked in air, ready for another fire shout and Vilkas dodged to the left as the fire flew from its mouth. The dragon's head turned its head following him, but Vilkas was quicker. Farkas came from the other side, slashing his great sword at the beast's torso. The dragon's scaled hide was rough, but Farkas was able to chip away at some of its scales with his Skyforge steel sword. The angered dragon roared and stood on its hind legs. It flapped its strong wings, sending a gust of air and dust at the brothers, sending them flying backwards while stirring a slew of dust into the air that added to the cloud and smoke surrounding the area.

Aela shot a few more arrows into the beast before it noticed her. Its head snapped towards her and as it shot out a fiery breath she jumped off her perch, rolling when she connected with the ground and drew another arrow, firing it into the dragon's neck. The dragon screeched as it tried to shake the arrow from its neck. Farkas recovered from his fall and charged at the beast again. The dragon turned towards his him and Farkas ducked under its wing. He ran under its neck, piercing his great sword into the torso just in front of the wing. The dragon stood, pulling Farkas off his feet with his sword still in hand. The dragon thrashed about with Farkas holding on tight to the sword in his neck. Asmara readied an arrow at the beast, but Vilkas could see her hesitation to fire. She blinked a few times before she aimed, then fired her arrow. The arrow hit just below the dragon's eye and it let out a scream. It tried to take flight again and Farkas went flying through the air, landing front first on the dusty ground. Vilkas saw his brother fall to the ground again, and cried out to him. Farkas pushed himself up slowly, shaking his head. Vilkas blew out a rough breath when he saw his brother was okay. He ran over to him while the dragon fell back to the ground and pursued Ria and Torvar who had slid under the dragon's belly. They began slashing their blades at him from below. When Vilkas reached his brother, Farkas was bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"I don't know about this Vilkas. This thing throws one hell of a punch." He looked up at him through the dark strands of his hair, some of them sticking to his face from sweat.

"We need to gain some sort of advantage. It tramples us from below." Vilkas' eyes light up as the idea came to him. He and Farkas both threw their arms up covering them from the gust of wind, and dirt the dragon continued to fly in the air as it flung Torvar off to the side. Athis ran to him and dragged him to cover by his arms before the dragon could hurl its fire breath at them. Ria had so far dodged all the beast's attacks, but just barely. She was trying her best to stay under its belly and out of site as the dragon continued to pursue her. The dragon turned in circles trying to get her out from underneath him. Asmara stood a little too close and as the dragon swung around once more, his scaly tale hit her torso, sending her soaring through the air into a large pile of rubble. Vilkas and Farkas ran to her side. She lay face down on the ground, more blood gushing from her head wound. Vilkas pulled her to a sitting position and her eyes flickered open for a moment before they closed again. He rested her against the rubble, out of harm's way and turned back to his brother. "We need to get on top of it." Vilkas said to his brother.

"You mean you want to ride the damn thing?" Farkas exclaimed, disbelief dripped in his voice. "I think you're touched in the head brother!"

"No, it can't take flight! It won't let us get close enough to do any real damage to it. We have to attack from above!" Vilkas looked at his brother, complete seriousness on his face. Farkas eye him a moment.

"Okay then. What's the plan?" He asked his brother, uncertainty dripping in his voice.

"Brace your shield and get as close as you can to the him." Farkas nodded as he withdrew his shield from his back and marched over to the dragon that was twisting and turning to find the girl hiding beneath it. It raised itself again, sending more dust into the surrounding area. Everyone was nearly choking on the stuff. Farkas dipped underneath the tail and called for his brother as he ran under its wing. Vilkas held his sword in hand and ran towards his brother. Farkas dropped to one knee and held his shield above him. Vilkas lunged with his right foot forward, connecting with the shield while Farkas stood and pushed up with all his strength, sending Vilkas up and onto the beast.

He grabbed hold of one the large scales sticking from the dragon's spine with his left hand and he placed his left foot on Farkas' sword which was still protruding from the dragon's neck. The dragon began swinging its head back and forth, trying to shake him off. Vilkas pulled himself up to straddle the dragon's neck, but as soon as his right foot swung to the other side the dragon's head reared, sending him backwards before he could lock his legs. Vilkas grabbed a hold of its scales with both hands, losing his sword in the process. The dragon roared fire as it continued its attempt in swinging Vilkas off. Vilkas pulled himself up again, his grip holding on tight. The dragon fell forward, holding itself up with its wings and Vilkas followed its momentum.

He carefully crawled forward, inching his way up the dragon's neck as the rest of the Companions and left over guards continued their assault. He noticed the combined effort as the dragon had become surrounded by warriors who were hacking and slashing at the beast. Finally Vilkas found his balance and locked onto the beast's upper neck with his thighs. His sword was lost, so he withdrew his bow and aimed at where its skull and spine connected. The dragon thrashed about from the attacks below and Vilkas almost missed his shot, but the minute he discharged his arrow, it let out a wail. The dragon fell to the ground, causing the earth to shake beneath him and Vilkas jumped off before he was thrown from its back. As the dragon collapsed, it sent up another cloud of dust. Vilkas walked through the veil of dirt and smoke to where the dragon's head lay. Its breathing was shallow, but its eyes were still slightly open, but they shot open as in sudden realization for a moment as he breathed his last words.

"Dovahkiin! No!" As the dragon's chest fell from its final breath, Vilkas almost felt a twinge of guilt. The feeling soon went away when he looked up and saw the smoke in the area. He smelled the burning flesh of the injured and dead and could hear the moans and cries of those in pain from the dragon's wrath.

He was pulled from his thoughts when the dragon's corpse began to light up from the inside. He stepped back and yelled for everyone to do the same. They all cleared a large circle around the dead dragon as it slowly lit up in a bright flame. Its scales looked as if they evaporated into ash, rising from the body. Soon the flame engulfed the corpse and as the bone began to show an orange and purple light began to swarm around it. Vilkas held his hand up from the brightness of it. The light continued to float about the dragon's corpse until it shot towards the watch tower. The wind caused by the light flew around them and Vilkas walked towards where the light led. The strands of light continued for a few moments with a slight roaring sound, until they were engulfed by the dust and smoke near the tower. He slowly walked towards it and there was an aura emanating from the center of the dusty cloud that was slowly clearing. The aura began to fade by the time he could see what was emerging from it.

Asmara walked slowly from the dust into the clearing. She then stood there as everyone stared at her and the aura swarmed around her and was then absorbed into her body. Her clothes were tattered and burnt. She heaved deep breaths, her hand clutching her chest, bunching her shirt in her fist. She was staring at the ground in front of her and when she looked up she caught the eyes of all the Companions and guards who had expressions of awe strewn across their faces, wide eyed and mouths open. A guard approached her slowly before speaking.

"You… you're dragonborn." He said with a dumbstruck expression. Her eyebrows knitted together and she swallowed heavily before replying.

"Dragonborn?" She said still catching her breath.

"Dragonborn! Like Tiber Septim! You just absorbed that dragon soul!"

"I don't know what happened." She said, still trying to gain some sort of composure.

"Try to shout!" She looked at him, still confused. "Shout! Like the dragons do!" She shook her head and stared at the ground. She looked up and met the expectant eyes of those around her. All was quiet when she looked up to the sky. She took a deep breath and released a pent up energy from the word.

 _"FUS!"_ The sound thundered from her mouth and throat. Everyone gasped and she looked at them wide eyed. She was still trying to comprehend what had just happened to her and she appeared scared.

"It's the power of old! The voice of the Dragonborn!" Everyone began murmuring the word as she took in their words. Dragonborn? She was no Dragonborn. She admitted herself that she was no warrior.

Vilkas stared at Asmara, and the look in her eyes conveyed pure terror. Was she afraid of this? She was given the greatest gift from the Gods and she looked utterly horrified by it. A part of him suddenly wanted to console her and comfort her. Help her with the realization. He took one step forward before stopping himself. He was unsure of what she needed, what she wanted or if there was any help he could offer her. He could not stand the look on her face, and it cut through him. Aela was soon at her side, with her hands over Asmara's shoulders and she began walking her back towards Whiterun.

Was this really happening? His eyes followed her and the rest of the Companions joined them as they began their trek back to Whiterun. Farkas joined Vilkas' side and spoke to him, but he did not hear the words. They must not have been important because Farkas did not press for a response. They soon followed them, Vilkas grabbing his fallen sword before they left the scene. The guards were still conversing about Tiber Septim and the history of the Dragonborn. Everyone was asking Asmara questions and pressing her for answers. She had none. She just walked in silence and he could almost smell the fear rolling off of her. She was not this terrified when they battled the dragon. She didn't fear the battle or these reborn monsters. She feared herself.

* * *

" _FUS!"_

Master Arngeir's head shot up from his meditation at the echo of the word. That was an unfamiliar voice using that shout and he couldn't help but wonder where it came from. He stood from his position at the altar and turned to see his fellow Greybeards had gathered in the main hall. They all nodded at him and he returned the gesture before they stepped out into High Hrothgar's courtyard.

Shortly after they trekked out into the unforgiving cold that was the Throat of the World, they heard the familiar voice of their leader.

"Paarthurnax." He greeted the elder and the other Greybeards followed suit.

"I have felt the thu'um of vorey. This is no normal mun. It was the zul of a dovah." He spoke to them and Arngeir pondered his words for a moment.

"Are you implying what it is I think you are implying?" He asked and the elder nodded his head.

"The Dovahkiin has revealed their self. We must summon them so that they shall learn the vahza of the voice." Paarthurnax spoke and so it was. The Greybeards lined up near the edge of the courtyard with their leader behind them. They all meditated for a moment before shouting the word that would bring the Dovahkiin to them. All in unison, including their elder, they shouted to the skies and the earth shook as it had done so before.

" _DOVAHKIIN!"_

* * *

 **A/N: This has been one of those chapters where I basically visualize it this perfect way in my head. So of course a soundtrack goes along with it. If you want to somewhat know what was going through my head the moment she is realized to be the Dragonborn, the song "Finale" from the first season soundtrack of Game of Thrones is what was playing while I wrote. Perfect for that scene.**


	7. Chapter 7

Asmara sat on the rocky edge beyond the courtyard of High Hrothgar, overlooking the northern part of Skyrim. The ground was cold and covered in snow, but she didn't care. Her knees were bent up against her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs and her cheek resting on the tops of her knees. She stared out, looking to the land beneath her. Whiterun was to the west, Dragonsreach towering over the rest of the town. To her right and towards the northeast she saw Windhelm snuggled against the mountainside with its tall walls surrounding the city, the White River bypassing it, expanding and emptying out into the Sea of Ghosts. She was on top of the world, and it made her feel even smaller. The icy wind blew roughly against her face, but she only took it as a sign that was not in fact dreaming. Nothing seemed real - Helgen, the dragons, the Greybeards, the Dragonborn. She would close her eyes, hoping that when she opened them that she'd be lying on her sleeping mat in the middle of The Rift somewhere, staring up at the orange and yellow colored trees. Every time, she would just reopen her eyes to the same view below her and she wanted to cry. She was no Dragonborn, she was a simple huntress, who lived alone, that nobody bothered with. Master Arngeir's voice repeated in her head, their conversation playing on a loop to remind her of what she was.

 _"So… a Dragonborn appears, at the turning of the age."_

 _"Everyone keeps calling me that. What does this mean?" Asmara had been horrified from the experience at the western watch tower._

 _"First, let us truly see if you are Dragonborn. Let us taste of your voice." She felt like a freak show. She used her newly acquired shout in the hall, blowing away a few pots sitting beside the stairs. She winced and gave them an apologetic look. The Greybeards had all shared a knowing look before the old man continued. "Tell me Dragonborn, why have you come here?"_

 _"What does this mean? To be Dragonborn?" She asked, worry laced in her voice._

 _"We are here to guide you Dragonborn, just as the Greybeards have always sought to guide those of the Dragon Blood that came before you. There have been many of the Dragon Blood since Akatosh first bestowed that gift upon mortalkind and we are honored to welcome you to High Hrothgar. We will do our best to teach you how to use your gift in fulfillment of your destiny."_

 _"What destiny?"_

 _"That is for you to discover. We can show you the way, but not the destination. You were given this gift from the gods for a reason. It is up to you to figure out how best to use it._ "

The old man's words were wise, but also horribly cryptic. She still had no clue what any of this truly meant. They had expanded her knowledge of the first shout she had acquired, and then gave her a whole new one to test. They were astonished by the ease of which she learned, and bestowed yet another quest for her. She wanted to decline, she wanted to tell them to just screw off and find someone else to go search for some other damn ancient artifact. But she couldn't. As irresponsible as she wanted to be, as much as she needed to go back to her old life, that just wasn't an option any longer. Even if she did say no to all of this, the gods would not let her. There would still be dragons, she would still be the Dragonborn and there would still be some unknown destiny to fill.

She still had so many questions for the Greybeards, but grew tired of their half answers and uncertainties. She decided to accept that not even they knew what she was to do with this "gift". So she asked for them to leave her so she could sit by herself, and contemplate what in Talos' name she was going to do. She hadn't known how long she had been sitting there, staring out over the world, but she was shivering from the cold. She was no Nord, but she thought, maybe even they could not bear the cold that was atop the throat of the world. She curled in on herself even tighter, trying to hold some warmth in. If she left her spot at the top of Skyrim, that would mean she would have to go solve the problems occurring below her. The land looked so peaceful from her new found perch, and she could only imagine the true chaos that ensued below.

She suddenly felt a blanket being wrapped around her, and hands rubbing her arms and back trying to warm her, or maybe soothe her; she could not tell. She looked over her shoulder to see Lydia, her new housecarl gifted from Jarl Balgruuf for helping with the Dragon, crouching next to her with a sympathetic smile. She turned her head back towards the scenery and let out a shivering breath.

"My thane, you will catch a cold out here." Lydia spoke, the worry dripping from her voice.

"Can the Dragonborn catch colds?" Asmara replied with a mocking tone.

"I'm sure she can if she sits on the edge of the highest mountain in Tamriel for nearly an hour." Lydia replied, with just as much of mocking tone in her voice as her thane. Asmara smiled from her response and closed the blanket around her. Lydia continued to rub her arms, trying to keep Asmara from shaking any more than she already was. "My thane, if I may ask…" Lydia paused to gauge her reaction before continuing, "why is that you sit out here?" Asmara answered without looking at her, keeping her voice low.

"Because if I return, then I will have responsibility. I will have duty, I have never had that before. I have never had someone depend on me or need my help. I have never been important." Lydia sighed at her answer and thought on her words before speaking.

"Just because you are Dragonborn, and just because you have a new sense of responsibility, does not mean you have to carry it all alone." Lydia tilted her head, trying to see Asmara's face.

"That's just it though. I was alone, I was… content. I had none of this, no housecarl, no companions, no special powers. I was just alone and life was simple. How does one transition from that? How am I supposed to just change the only life I have ever known into something as great as this new one that has been given to me?" Lydia saw a stray tear roll down Asmara's cheek and she moved out in front of her, sitting crossed legged and lightly brushed the tear from her face.

"I do not have all the answers my thane. But I can tell you things are so much easier when you have people who care about you to help. I cannot say I know what you are feeling, or know what your life was like before this." She grabbed Asmara's hands and looked her in the eye. "What I can tell you, is that the burden is much lighter when there is more than one to carry it." Asmara turned her head down at her words and let out a sigh.

"I just feel like that is more responsibility. The more people I have to help and the more whose trust I have to gain. I have never been sociable; I have always run from society. I do not know how to love or care. My heart aches from the loneliness but it is all I know. What if I disappoint everyone? What if I do not live up to the expectations of the Dragonborn? What if I fail all those who believed in me?" Lydia caught another tear and thought she heard a small sob come from Asmara's throat. "I cannot do this." She ended with a strained voice.

"You will not fail Dragonborn. No one expects more of you than what you can bear. No one will judge you for what you are, only the things you do. How you use this power is what is important. If you choose to roam the roads of Skyrim alone, then you may do so. If you choose to stay with the Companions then they will welcome you. If you choose to fight, then I will fight with you if you wish. It is not disappointment that you will find, but support. If you do not know how to love, then we will help you learn by showing you what love is. There is always another way my thane." Asmara met Lyida's hazel eyes and Lydia softly smiled at her, and then turned her attention to the scenery behind her. "All you have to do is descend from the clouds to see the way." Asmara looked out at the scene with her and they both enjoyed the peacefulness of it all together.

"You know what I think?" Asmara asked her, not changing her expression.

"What is that my thane?" Lydia's smile grew a bit wider.

"I think you may be far wiser than your age leads on." Asmara gave her a smile in return and Lydia let out a small laugh. Asmara's bowed her head again as she sniffled. Lydia returned to rubbing her arms through the blanket as she spoke.

"Let us go, my thane. I am sure the Greybeards have some tea to help you warm up. I can request for us to remain here over night if you wish?" Asmara nodded her head as she stood with Lydia. Lydia held her arms around her as they walked back through the courtyard towards High Hrothgar.

"I really do hope the Dragonborn cannot catch colds." Asmara quickly stated. "It would make fighting Dragons much more difficult with a stuffy nose and a cough." Lydia laughed as they entered the monastery. She hoped her new thane would soon feel better and adequate enough to travel towards Ustengrav. It would be a long journey and it would be far easier if Asmara was in high spirits. She decided she would make it her first priority to make sure the Dragonborn never felt alone, and never felt outcast for what she was. She could tell Asmara had social issues beforehand, though she did not know why. She was pretty, handled herself well and was nothing but kind towards everyone she met. She almost made Lydia stay behind when Jarl Balgruuf introduced them, but he had insisted Lydia escort her up the seven thousand steps to High Hrothgar (Lydia had never made the trip before, but she was sure that the number was not quite accurate). Asmara may not have been some grand Nord warrior, but Lydia saw her heart. It was only best that the person who held such immense power within them to be pure as well. She knew Asmara would succeed in whatever fate had in store for her, she just needed guidance along the way and Lydia would do her best to provide that. She was not as wise as the Greybeards or as fierce and honorable as the Companions, but she was a good friend. And a good friend is exactly what Asmara needed.

Kodlak sat in his quarters, writing in his new journal. He had never been much of a writer before, but his dreams as of late drove him to record his thoughts. Now, it seems, his dreams were coming to fruition as he looked upon the face of his savior. He had dreamt many time of this savior, with her unnatural eyes, her small frame but strong heart. She was out of place in the land of Sovngarde, but it felt as if she belonged there. Like she was meant to be there.

Her declination to join our folds was a shock however. He was sure she would be made a Companion, it was his only hope. Yet she had already impressed some of the Circle with her mettle. Kodlak still kept his own counsel on Asmara's place in his dream, for he wanted to see what kind of destiny she carved for herself before revealing his thoughts to her.

In the meantime, he looked for ways of cleansing the beastblood. The writing and legends he looked for were sparse on the subject and many even contradictory. He was sure the mages up at the college could aid him in his search, but he did not wish to engage in any wizadry – even with his fears that they may be the only one who best know how to navigate the worlds of knowledge and curses.

Through his studies, it became apparent that Terrfyg's choice to turn the Companions to the wolf blood was indeed a mistake. Magics and their like are not in keeping the spirit of the Companions and trickery is still common for many of them. It was time to face the problems directly, without the need of said trickery. Kodlak's only hope was to guide his Companions back to the true path of Ysgramor. Kodlak knew he did not have much time for the rot had made its way into his chest.

He kept this secret of course, along with his dreams. The Companions did not need to know such things. Vilkas would take it too hard, knowing Kodlak's time was close to ending. His only wish was that Asmara's place in their family would become permanent, and that she truly was the strange savior in his dreams.

A knock on the door brought him from his thoughts and writing. He invited the person in and he held in his elation when he saw those familiar yet strange golden eyes.

"You return to us once more." He said turning to face her.

"I have yet again." She said, closing the door behind her as she leaned her back against it. "You asked I return in hopes of hearing about what the Greybeards had to say." He nodded at her. Kodlak was more than happy to find that this stranger also appeared to be the Dragonborn. The odds were amazing and it only furthered his belief that she was their savior. It was the reason she belonged in Sovngarde.

"And what news do you bring us?" He asked her, completely intrigued about her trip up the seven thousand steps.

"They seem to believe I am the last Dragonborn. I'm still unsure of what to think about it all, but they're having me travel to Ustengrav to retrieve the horn of Jurgen Windcaller."

"I thought that artifact was lost long ago." He said to her.

"Apparently not. I guess they just never had an errand boy to go get for them. I don't think any of them have left that mountain in fifty years." Asmara explained.

"I see. Will you be traveling there alone?" He asked, concern laced in his voice.

"No I don't think so. Lydia has insisted accompanying me everywhere, but…" She paused as she tilted her head to the side in a thoughtful manner, "I honestly do not mind. She… she reminds of me someone important in my life."

"And who would that be?" Asmara hesitated before answering.

"My mother." She didn't elaborate further, and Kodlak didn't press for more information.

"I am glad to see someone has broken down pieces of those walls you have built around you. She has accomplished more than I." He said, giving her a sincere look. Asmara was quiet for a few moments, not meeting his eyes but when she did he saw a plethora of emotions cross her sunny orbs.

"I wish I could offer you all more. The family you have here welcomed me, and I didn't know how to accept the gesture. I believe I have been alone for far too long." Kodlak contemplated what her words meant for moment before responding.

"Does this mean you have considered rethinking my offer to join the Companions?" He asked her. She took a deep breath before answering.

"I have been pondering it. But I will not offer you any false hope. I just have to ask…" She paused, waiting for his signal to continue. "Why the persistence?" Kodlak knew this question would be asked and he prepared an answer for her as to not reveal any details of his dream.

"Because I know a lost soul when I see one. As I told you before, we were all lost when we came to Jorrvaskr. We all needed a family, people to care for us. I found that here in these halls, and I only hope to save the lives of those whose hearts are searching for the same. You may have been content with your life before, but that does not mean you were truly happy." She had no response to his words, but he knew they hit her as a storm of emotions clouded her eyes. "I plead you to return to us once more after you have completed your errand for the Greybeards. Your heart will always guide you to where you are meant to be."

"Thank you." Asmara nearly choked on the words before she hastily left. Kodlak watched her leave his quarters and hoped his words meant enough to her that she would return to them. He needed her to come back, they all did. Their lives and souls were in her hands.

* * *

Asmara yanked on the chain the large chain, opening the gate that finally led to the room they had been looking for. Ustengrav was just as she had expected a tomb to be, dark, smelly and full of Draugr. Though unlike her trip to Bleak Falls Barrow she had expected the undead skeletons to appear and she also had her trusted housecarl with her. Ever since their conversation at High Hrothgar, Lydia had not pushed or pressured Asmara in any way. As they traveled, Lydia did not wait on her hand and foot, making Asmara feel useful. They hunted together, Asmara taught her how to blend in with their surroundings and remain undetected. Lydia's shining armor did not help matters as they were spotted by their prey multiple times. They would often settle for rabbit or the occasional mountain goat, which was a last resort seeing as Asmara personally could not stomach the meat.

Asmara had never seen the western parts of Skyrim and she made sure to take in as much of the area as possible. Asmara made sure to purchase a more dependable set of armor before they left Whiterun. She had always stuck to her furs but she found she rather liked the studded armor she helped craft. Adriane Avenicci was overflowing with orders from the Battle-Borns, who insisted on her crafting Imperial weapons for them. Asmara knew nothing about the craft, but was decent with mending together the hides and fur that she had used before, so Adriane tutored her in the rest. She had paid Adriane generously for the provided supplies and lessons, not knowing what else she would spend her accumulated wealth on.

With her new armor, they set out for Hjaalmarch where Jurgen Windcaller's tomb was located. Their journey had been uneventful until they reached the actual tomb, running into a slew of bandits that inhabited the area. When they had entered they found more, along with a few necromancers fighting off the Draugr. Asmara let them take each other out before finishing them off herself. Having Lydia this time did actually make things easier. She had someone to watch her back when Draugr snuck up from behind and Lydia was exceptional with a sword and shield. She may not have been as quiet traveling through the tomb, but it had not mattered when there were two of them to fight off their enemies.

About halfway through the tomb, they had come across a word wall. Before they left High Hrothgar, Asmara had made sure to discuss her experience with Master Arngeir and he had assured her it was due to her new abilities. There were word walls spread out across all of Skyrim, each containing part of a new shout for her to learn. However, in order for her to associate the word with its meaning, she would have to absorb more dragon souls to understand how to use them. Until then, the word would swirl around in the back of her mind, like it was lost and waiting for her to grasp it.

When she had approached this word wall, it was different from her first experience. She had expected what was to happen and prepared herself. It seemed she absorbed the word easier than before. She did not feel as suffocated and she thought that maybe it was because she was slowly accepting who she was with the help of Lydia. She still found she could not breathe for a few moments and had to brace herself against the wall as her vision blurred to darkness. Once the word was absorbed, _Feim_ hovered in the back of her mind as the word _Fus_ had done before. She continued to ponder what the word meant as they continued through the tomb. It almost aggravated her that she could not place its meaning until she defeated another dragon, which terrified her. Luckily they had not encountered any on their journey and Asmara wondered how many there actually were. Would there be enough for her to slay? Or at some point would she have a jumble of words floating around her head that had no meaning? She had hoped it was the former, as only one word was beginning to drive her mad.

They walked through the final room where the horn was set to be. There were large pools of water on each side of the room, with a flat bridge leading to the shrine where the horn was placed. Random pillars stuck out from the water, holding the cave-like ceiling above them. She walked down the stairs leading to the bridge and as she approached, the ground began to rumble and the water was disturbed. As they were crossing the bridge, four black statues raised from the water. They had details carved into them to resemble feathers and the tops were shaped into the form of an eagle head with its mouth open. They were rather magnificent and both Lydia and Asmara looked upon them in awe as they finished their ascent out of the water. They approached the shrine only to find a note sitting atop of it.

"I'm unsure of what the horn is supposed to look like, but I don't think that is it." Lydia stated and Asmara looked back at her with a sarcastic look upon her face, her mouth pulled to one side. Lydia shrugged her shoulders and motioned for her to take the note. It was simply folded in half and Asmara read it quietly, confusion knitted in her face. "What does it say?" Lydia pressed.

"Someone has taken the horn. They addressed the note to the Dragonborn, but did not use my name." Asmara stared at the note a moment longer before handing it to Lydia, who read it out loud.

 _Dragonborn,_

 _I need to speak to you. Urgently._

 _Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you._

 _-A Friend_

"Some friend that is." Asmara stated flatly. "I have been to that inn before, I do not know many people in Riverwood who would make their way out here for something such as this, especially none I would call a friend." Lydia handed her the note back and Asmara placed it in her pack. She moved to the stairs leading to the shrine and she sat down, placing her elbows on her knees with her chin in her hands. "I must say I am tired of running around all of Skyrim, fetching artifacts for everyone. I may be unsure of what my supposed 'Destiny' is but it sure as hell is not being an errand girl." She emphasized the word destiny with air quotations with her fingers. Lydia joined her on the steps to Asmara's left and sat in a similar fashion.

"Well, what do you plan on doing?" Lydia asked, shifting her eyes towards Asmara.

"I suppose we go meet this… friend and retrieve the horn. The note says they would like to speak with me but I really do not feel I have time for idle chatter." She let out a huff as they both sat there in silence for a few moments.

"I think it is a woman." Lydia said, breaking the silence. Asmara looked at her, and raised an eyebrow.

"What makes you believe that?" She said with a curious tone.

"The handwriting was rather feminine. The tails of the letters were a bit longer and many of the letters connected smoothly." Asmara looked out towards the rest of the tomb, looking as if she was imagining the note in her head, slightly squinting her left eye.

"Interesting you could tell from that. Though, I am not one for good penmanship so it would only make sense that I bypass those facts." She said, not changing the expression on her face.

"See? I told you I could help." Asmara turned her head with a smirk on her face and then laughed at the housecarl who joined her.

"Yes, I suppose you did. Not sure I would have gotten far without knowing a woman wrote that note." Her smirk turned devious as she spoke in a sarcastic tone and Lydia's jaw dropped at her comment, and she smacked Asmara's arm lightly with the back of her hand. "Hey! I may not know much about being a thane but I'm pretty sure my housecarl is not supposed to hit their thane!" She said rubbing her arm, but still had a smile on her face. Lydia laughed as she continued. "Did they not teach you that when you go to learn to be a housecarl? That seems like it would be your first lesson."

"Well you deserved it." Lydia said with a playful tone.

"That should be rule number one: Do not hit your thane, not matter how pompous and horridly annoying they are." Asmara stated in a mocking tone as she straightened her back and stuck her chin in the air, attempting to appear more proper. Lydia's laugh grew and Asmara smiled at her. They had grown rather close during their trip to Ustengrav and for once in her life, Asmara had truly considered someone her friend. Though Lydia was bound by her honor to stay at her side, she had a feeling she would remain there anyways just because they had begun that was the kind hearted person she was. It had made Asmara feel differently about her situation and she grew more optimistic about her future. If she could surround herself with people like Lydia, maybe life would not be so difficult as the Dragonborn after all.


	8. Chapter 8

Asmara and Lydia walked into the Sleeping Giant Inn, it appeared exactly as she had remembered it. It was mid-afternoon when they arrived, they had stopped in Whiterun the night before to get some well-deserved rest before heading out again. Asmara spent the night with the Companions once again while staying there, and she believed Kodlak saw that as her final answer. She saw the benefits of being apart of the group and would be foolish to turn it down. Some of them were already beginning to see her as family. Farkas stayed at her side every time she visited and Aela was proving to be as good of a friend as Lydia. Asmara realized that night how important it was to surround herself with friends like Farkas, Lydia and Aela. As complicated as her life had become, they seemed to make it all much easier than it would have been if she attempted to face everything alone.

When they approached the bar, the barkeep was cleaning out some tankards as he asked if they needed anything. "Actually, we were looking to rent the attic room." Asmara said, pulling out her coin purse. The bearded man looked at her, a peculiar expression drawn on his face. He looked over her shoulder at a blonde Breton woman in blue, who was sweeping around the fire pit that was centered in the lobby.

"Delphine, do we have an attic room?" Her head popped up and she looked at Lydia and Asmara, narrowing her eyes. She set her broom against one of the wooden supports for the ceiling and walked over towards them.

"Attic room, eh?" She continued to asses them, crossing her arms. "Well… no we don't have an attic room, but you can use the one on the left. Make yourself at home." She pointed to the room Asmara had rented from her previous stay. Asmara and Lydia had exchanged a look, suspicion rising in their expressions. Asmara handed the barkeep ten septims and they both slowly turned away from the woman, who now had her hands on her hips and was eying them doubtingly. They entered the room and closed the door, not wanting to draw attention.

"Well, that was a waste of ten septims." Asmara stated dryly. "Now what?" She took a seat in the chair against the right wall and Lydia sat on the bed across from her.

"I don't know my thane, that woman was acting awfully suspicious." Asmara nodded in agreement. As if the woman had heard them, the door opened and she quickly entered before shutting it behind her. The two women eyed her in confusion.

"Which one of you is the Dragonborn?" Lydia and Asmara shared a look. "There is no time for being a reluctant hero, so who is it?" Asmara spoke up.

"I am. Why are you asking?" She said inquisitively. The woman walked to the locked chest at the end of the bed, and pulled out the artifact they had been looking for a few days prior. Their eyes widened when they saw what it was and Asmara quickly stood from her chair, Lydia following shortly after.

"I think you're looking for this." She handed Asmara the horn and she eyed it carefully before placing it in her pack. "We need to talk. Follow me." Lydia gave Asmara a hesitant look before they both reluctantly followed the mysterious woman out of the room and across the lobby. They entered another rentable room, this one significantly larger than the other. The bed was much nicer than that of the other room; it was covered with a green wool blanket with a wooden frame that had poles coming from the headboard. It had two end tables on either side with horn-shaped lamps. There was a desk and a few more tables spread out around the room and a wardrobe near the far right corner. "Close the door behind you." Lydia did as she asked and the woman continued as she opened the wardrobe, then revealed a secret staircase behind the wall built into it. "Now we can talk."

They followed her down the stairs that led into a large square room, lined with stone walls and wooden posts for support. There was a large table with a map of Skyrim laid out on it and Asmara noticed a single book lying next to it. Asmara recognized the symbol to be close to that of which represented the Empire. It was a Dragon, its wings forming into a diamond-like shape with its head and tail extending from the middle, looking similar to a snake with just enough detail added to the ends to give it the essence of a dragon. The woman rounded the table and placed her palms flat on the surface, her arms spread out on each side of the map in front of her. "The Greybeards seem to think you're the Dragonborn. I hope they're right."

"The Greybeards have said so, but many have seen proof of what she is capable of." Lydia spoke out.

"Well, if you'll forgive me if I don't assume that something's true just because the Greybeards say so. I just handed you the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, does that make me Dragonborn too?" Asmara was not arrogant about the title the Greybeards had given her but she did not appreciate the woman's attitude towards her.

"You'd better have a damn good reason for dragging me down here." Asmara stated, crossing her arms as she spoke.

"This was the only way I could make sure it wasn't a Thalmor trap. I'm not the enemy, I already gave you the horn. I'm actually trying to help you. I just need you to hear me out." Asmara looked at Lydia and she shrugged. Asmara lifted her chin slightly before she spoke.

"I'm listening…"

"When I heard about the Dragonborn, I knew the Greybeards would send you to Ustengrav. They're nothing if not predictable. I'm part of a group that has been looking for you… well, someone like you, for a very long time. If you really are Dragonborn that is, but before I tell you anymore, I need to make sure I can trust you."

"And how do I know if I can trust you?" Asmara countered.

"If you don't trust me, then you were a fool to walk in here in the first place. When you showed up here, I knew you were the ones the Greybeards sent, and not some Thalmor plant." Asmara still found the woman rather suspicious, and she couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in her gut.

"Wait… the Thalmor? What do the Aldmeri have to do with this?"

"We are very old enemies. I think they have something to do with the dragons returning."

"What makes you believe the Altmer have such powerful capabilities?"

"It isn't important, what is important is that you might actually be Dragonborn. They will search for you too."

"So, why were _you_ looking for me?" Asmara asked, all to hesitant with the talk of the Thalmor.

"We remember what most don't - that the Dragonborn is the ultimate dragon slayer. You are the only one that can kill a dragon permanently by devouring its soul. Can you do it? Can you devour a dragon's soul?" Asmara answered hesitantly.

"I, uh… I wouldn't call it devouring…"

"Many in Whiterun saw her absorb a light that emanated from the dragon they had slain. They had immediately called her the Dragonborn then, and it was shortly after that the Greybeards summoned her." Lydia answered.

"Well, I'll see for myself soon enough." Asmara's eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened.

"What do you mean by that? What is it you are hiding from me?" Asmara demanded. Delphine sighed and looked towards the map on the table.

"Dragons aren't just coming back, they're coming back to life. They weren't gone somewhere for all these years. They were dead, killed off centuries ago by my predecessors." Asmara shook her head in disbelief.

"What could possibly bring them back to life?" Asmara asked, concern in her voice.

"I'm not sure, but I need you to help me stop it. I've visited their ancient burial mounds and found them empty."

"Burial mounds? You mean the stone mounds littered throughout Skyrim?" Asmara's brows bunched together in confusion. Delphine nodded as she continued.

"Yes, and I've figured out where the next one will come back to life. We're going to go there, and you're going to kill that dragon." Asmara startled at her words and held her hands up to stop her from continuing.

"Wait… wait… wait. You do know you sound tad mad? How in the Kynareth's name did you come to this conclusion?" Asmara's nerves were on edge, she wasn't about to go fight another dragon just because this woman had a hunch.

"You should know… you got the map for me."

"What map? That one?" She pointed to the map on the table, never having recognized or remembered doing such thing.

"The Dragonstone you got for Farengar, it's a map of ancient dragon burial sites. I've looked at which ones are now empty. The pattern is pretty clear." She pointed down at the map as she continued, "It seems to be spreading from the southeast, starting in the Jeralls near Riften. The one near Kynesgrove is next if the pattern holds." Asmara crossed her arms again, mulling over the information that she just received. She thought back to when she returned to Farengar with the Dragonstone, and she recalled a woman dressed in leather armor and a hood speaking with him when she arrived. She hadn't paid her much attention then, but as the memory becomes clearer, she realizes it was the woman standing before her. She had no idea the Dragonstone had been a map, though she honestly couldn't understand any of the markings, not as if she had paid any close attention to those either.

"So you want me to go to Kynesgrove to kill a dragon that may or may not still be dead when we get there in hopes this pattern of yours stays true? You have not particularly gained my trust or what even feels like my time. You had me ask to rent a nonexistent room in your inn, after stealing an item the Greybeards sent me after, leaving me a more than mysterious note in its place and now you just want me to go hunt down a dragon with you." Delphine looked at her, her expression not changing. "You truly must be mad. Any sensible person would have left moments ago, yet I am still here. Why is that?"

"Because, as the Dragonborn, you are meant to do this. The dragons need to be stopped and you are the only one who can do it."

"You seem so sure of what I am supposed to do, yet the Greybeards feigned ignorance on the matter."

"That is because those old men don't want you to use your power to its full potential. They would rather stay up on their mountain and read books than actually help with the real issues that are going on below." Delphine's voice grew slightly harsher with her words, and with that Asmara grew more frustrated.

"Give me one good reason I should go with you." Delphine replied immediately.

"You need a dragon soul." Asmara tilted her head in confusion. "There was a word wall at Ustengrav, no doubt you saw it." Asmara's breathing deepened as Delphine continued. "I know you need a soul to attach to the word, and I haven't heard of any recent dragon slayings. So I know you have that little tick that's in the back of your head, waiting for a meaning." Asmara could feel the word _Feim_ scratching at the back of her skull. She would ignore it at times, but it would always come back like some sort of rash. Asmara stared at the woman for a moment, she badly wanted to walk out and tell the woman to go kill the dragon herself but she couldn't ignore the word itching to get out. She turned to look at Lydia and she looked back expectantly.

"I will follow you wherever you wish my thane." Asmara nodded and turned back to Delphine.

"I am going to go return this horn to the Greybeards. It is only then I will meet you at Kynesgrove to slay this dragon. You just better hope you're right." She turned to walk out the door, Lydia following behind her. She wasn't sure she was ready to fight a dragon, but if she stopped with the Greybeards first, they may be able to give her more insight on the issue and maybe who this Delphine woman was. Of all the things she found uncertainty in, there was one thing she knew for sure. The dragons were back and she was the only thing in all of Skyrim that would be able to stop them.

The visit with the Greybeards had been quick. They taught her the last word of Unrelenting Force, so now her shout was more powerful than ever. She had only ever used it while in High Hrothgar, but she could feel her voice growing stronger. Her throat was not as strained and the shout was louder as well as more forceful. Master Arngeir had warned her about growing her new gift too quickly, making it more dangerous and she took his warning to heart. He assured her in the time it would take between learning new shouts, she should learn at a steady enough pace so that her voice would not overwhelm her.

After teaching her the rest of the shout, they had spoken to her in the dragon tongue. Lydia had to step outside as they spoke. Asmara had been placed in the middle and their shouts had caused the whole place to rumble and shake from the force of it. During the shouting ceremony, they gave her the title of Stormcrown. She was now Ysmir, Dragon of the North. She was unsure how she felt about the title as never having one before, but she could not help feeling a small sense of pride in the name. They had said dragons were very proud and she began to feel the part of the dragon within her that had been dormant all these years. With it, she worried. Dragon's were also cruel and some emotionless, she hoped that she could hold on to her humanity and not give in to the power as Arngeir had warned. She also tried to not be fearful of it, Delphine had told her that there was a greater use of her power and as much as she already disliked the woman, she knew there was some truth in her words. After the ceremony they welcomed her to return to High Hrothgar if she ever needed any further training or had any questions. She took advantage of their offer, mentioning to Arngeir that she believed it was the Dragon Tongue she heard in her dreams.

"For the past year or so, these dreams have resurfaced. I am haunted by dragons who speak the language, but… I cannot understand. I wish to know what they say. Perhaps use it later when it is needed against the dragons." Asmara told him.

"You are Dragonborn. It would only appear natural that you dream of the language and of your kin. The Dragonborn was always believed to have the soul of a dragon. Perhaps it is memories that you see that allow you to hear the language in your sleep. If you wish to know their meaning, you must meditate on them."

"But I cannot. Even now, a word rolls around in my mind, searching for meaning. It almost hurts when I concentrate on it. How am I to understand?" Asmara pleaded with him.

"Shouts are different. They are words of power, not just simple words that are part of the dragon tongue. In time, the language will make more sense to you but the shouts themselves have too much meaning for you to fully grasp without the help of absorbing a dragon's soul." Arngeir explained. "Though we cannot point you down the path you should take, we know that the only true way for your dragon soul to become fulfilled is through the slaying of dragons. But it is your choice to do so."

"Then if I choose this path, will you help me?" She asked.

"We can aid you in finding words of power. We know little of the return of the dragons, thus have little to no information to provide. Though, it would be presumed they guard their words if any have come to know of your existence."

"Then point me towards a word." She said, holding out her map for him to mark a location for her. He looked over the map thoughtfully, and pointed to a location.

"We have a felt a whisper of a word here. I know of a dragon altar that is located there. It is more than likely you will find a dragon guarding the word here." She looked at the location he pointed at and found it was located in the mountains separating Hjaalmarch and Whiterun Hold.

"Thank you Master Arngeir. I am appreciative of the help you are willing to give." She bowed slightly before leaving the temple in the sky and heading towards Kynesgrove where she anxiously hoped to find relief from the word taunting her in her mind.

By the time they had arrived there was a snow storm flurrying around the small village and it only worsened Asmara's anxiety. She was not completely prepared for a battle with a dragon, but so far there were no signs of any. They stepped inside the Braidwood Inn, shocked at the similarities between this inn and the Sleeping Giant in Riverwood. It was warm though, and that was all they had cared about. Lydia did not have an issue with cold as a Nord, but Asmara was freezing. Lydia brought over two bottles of mead for them, and they sat near the roaring fire, warming their hands.

It was only moments after they had settled in, that Delphine appeared. The Breton woman looked almost blue from the cold and Asmara pitied her more so than herself. Breton's had no tolerance for the cold whatsoever, and even Asmara was acclimated to the climate slightly, so she had at least built up some resistance to it. Delphine shook her head, brushing the snow off her hair. She joined them by the fire, still shivering. Asmara chuckled at the woman, who glared at her from the noise. She took a drink of her mead to keep from laughing at Delphine's reaction further. Asmara bought her a bottle of mead and started on a second one for herself as did Lydia.

"So, no sign of a dragon yet." Asmara said before sipping from her bottle. Delphine shook her head, still shivering from the cold. "We will wait til morning, if none has appeared by then we are heading back to Whiterun." She looked to Lydia, "We may have to stop in Falkreath Hold to catch that bear, we will take the road to the Southwest to get there, then make our way north back to Whiterun." Lydia nodded, accepting of the plan.

A few hours had gone by and Asmara made sure to only stick to the two bottles of mead, afraid of fighting a dragon, let alone fighting one with a buzz. She made sure to cut Lydia off as well, even though the woman assured her Nords could hold their mead better than other races. Just before Asmara was about to call it a night and head to her room, a loud roaring sound came from outside. Shortly after, someone busted through the inn doors, yelling about a dragon.

"Is the Dragon attacking?" Asmara asked the young, frightened woman trying to catch her breath.

"Well, no. I don't know what it's doing but I'm not waiting to find out." She said with a shaky voice. Asmara, Lydia and Delphine quickly grabbed their weapons and dashed out the doors to hear the dragon up at the hill by the burial mound.

"It looks like your hunch was right. I suppose I owe you something." Asmara said with surprise in her voice to Delphine.

"You can owe my by killing this dragon and proving your Dragonborn." Asmara nodded and they all ran up the hill together, remaining cautious about the dragon flying atop the hill. She could not tell what he was doing, he seemed to have no intention of attacking the village. There was a shout that echoed in the air and when they looked up, a stream of purple and blue light was coming from the ground where the burial mound was. They picked up their pace and she could hear the voice of the dragon as they approached.

" _Sahloknir! Ziil gro dovah ulse!"_ Asmara looked to the black dragon in recognition and she felt her heart sink. It was the same black dragon she saw at Helgen, whose red eyes were haunting her dreams and whose voice she heard in her sleep. She froze and Lydia bumped into her, and then stopped looking at Asmara in concern.

"My Thane? What's wrong?" Lydia asked, looking between Asmara and the dragon.

"That dragon… it is the same that attacked at Helgen." She had forgotten how large he was. She remembered the dragon at Whiterun, but he was nothing in comparison to the demon that was before her now. Lydia tried to shake her, grasping her attention. Asmara slowly continued her ascent up the hill, crouching down, attempting to stay hidden. The dragon continued speaking when they reached the top of the hill, seeing the light emanating from the dragon burial mound.

"This is worse than I thought." Delphine said, she was shivering again and it showed through her voice. Asmara hoped it was because of the cold and not her fear of the dragon, though she would not blame her for being terrified of the beast.

" _Slen Tiid Vo!"_ At the last words, the ground shook beneath them and they turned towards the dragon mound. There was a skeletal dragon climbing from its depths and Asmara's eyes widened in shock. The dragon crawled onto the ground outside the mound and spoke to the black dragon that had awoken it.

" _Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?"_ Asmara tried to comprehend what they were saying. As she had pondered the words only one stood out. Alduin. She knew that word but it had no meaning to her. As the dragons began to speak, she realized it was a name. The black dragon's name. She was unaware these creatures had names or any type of identity but for some reason it did not shock her. While she thought on their words, they turned their heads towards them. Alduin chuckled as he spoke to her.

" _Ful losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid no dov do hi"_ She only recognized the word Dovahkiin, as Dragonborn. She still did not know what he was saying, and fear rushed over her as he continued to speak to her. "You do not even know your tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take yourself for the name of _Dovah_." He redirected his attention to the other dragon who's scales and skin had slowly formed during the conversation. " _Sahloknir, krii daar joorre."_ Alduin quickly fled as the other dragon had risen; now flying above them.

"What did they say?" Delphine yelled over the wind and roaring dragon.

"I am not sure, but I think we should either run or try and slay this dragon because I do believe he has every intention of killing us at the command of the other black dragon." Asmara ran out into the opening near the mound and drew an arrow. The dragon flew behind her and she turned as it landed. The dragon inhaled and she quickly ran and slid underneath it as it exhaled fire. She ended up on her back, under the dragon's stomach and she fired her arrow into the soft spot. The dragon took to the air once again and she got to her feet, readying another arrow. Before the dragon could go far, she aimed another arrow and discharged it, once again hitting the soft underbelly of the beast. She looked forward and saw Lydia had her bow in hand and was also firing at the dragon. She saw Delphine behind her but did not see if the woman was doing any damage before the Dragon flew over them, shouting fire at them. Asmara ran into the hallowed burial mound before the fire could reach her and as the dragon passed she fired another arrow aimed at its wing. The dragon reared and landed in the mound. Asmara stepped back as it readied another shout towards Lydia. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them and exhaled the words came out of her with a force.

" _FUS RO DAH!"_ Thunder crackled around them and the dragon stumbled from the force. Asmara quickly withdrew and arrow, then aimed for the eye as he breathed fire towards Lydia and Delphine. Her arrow hit her mark and the dragon roared in pain. The dragon quickly turned, its tail coming straight at her. She ducked, refusing to have a repeat of her last dragon fight, and the dragon began moving around wildly from the pain in its eye. Lydia ran to the dragon, her sword drawn and stabbed just beneath a wing as Asmara continued to support her from afar with her bow. The dragon would not take flight again due to its slight blindness and they quickly subdued him. He finally fell to the ground, causing the earth to shake beneath him. Asmara placed her bow back over her shoulders and walked towards the dragon. The body began to turn to flame and ash as the familiar orange and purple light rose from it. The light swarmed around her and she was nearly blind from it until it became a dim aura that she absorbed. When it was gone, she suddenly had a clear mind, the word _Feim_ finally having meaning.

"Fade…" She murmured with a breath of relief, as she stared at the skeleton that was all that remained of the dragon.

"I… it's true, isn't it? You really are Dragonborn." Asmara looked towards Delphine and she slowly nodded her head, still staring at the dragon. "I owe you some answers, then, don't I? Go ahead. Whatever you want to know. Nothing held back." Asmara finally looked away and gave her attention to Delphine, noticing Lydia was by her side again. She had a lot of questions for this woman, and she was about to make sure she received every answer she wanted.

Delphine had made some decent points, but Asmara was still unconvinced the Thalmor were to blame for the dragons return. As terrible as they had become, she was sure that the dragon's return was not something the Thalmor was capable of. Asmara almost attacked Delphine when she insisted they infiltrate the Thalmor Embassy in Solititude. Lydia had to hold her back from smacking the woman. Though she explained that the group she belonged to, The Blades, were made to protect and help the Dragonborn, she sure wasn't keeping up her oath in that respect. She made sure to Delphine she would want no part in retrieving anything from the Thalmor, and if she was so convinced they had something to do with it that she should do it herself.

The Thalmor were guilty of many things, but this was not one of them. Asmara was not about to put herself in that situation over a so called hunch that was obviously driven by vengeance. That woman could not have possibly been completely straight in the head. Though when she mentioned the Civil War it made Asmara tense at her words. In that aspect, what Delphine said had made sense. She was there along with Ulfric, both of them set to be executed. That would have meant the end of the waryet the dragon interrupted the execution and the war was back in full force. The Thalmor definitely gains an advantage from Skyrim's weakened state. She did not know much about the reasons for fighting the war but she knew that Nords were fighting each other and it would only help the Thalmor gain more control. Even if Ulfric did win, the Empire would be weak enough for the Thalmor to become more involved. She knew enough from her mother about the Great War and what had happened in Cyrodiil over twenty-five years prior. She was only a babe then, but it seemed her mother continued fighting the Thalmor, even as she grew older. They already held a firm grip on the Empire and she believed Skyrim's Civil War was tightening it. She wanted nothing to do with it, but the more she pondered the repercussions of it, she thought she may have to get involved if she was indeed as powerful as Delphine her to believe. Though, Master Argneir's warning continued to echo in her head and she put all thoughts of the war aside. There was a reason the Greybeards had stayed out of it, and she would have to see if it was a truly valid enough reason for herself. With Delphine's influence and the new matters she brought to her attention, Asmara's life just became far more complicated.

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 **A/N: Okay so this is what I've rewritten so far. I know we're not quite caught up with my last version but I hope it's enough to hold you guys over for a bit while I get working on the rest of the story. Don't forget to Review and Favorite!**


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